The Boy Who Wasn't
by Phoenixthecookiemonster
Summary: "Everyone who knew Alex knew that he was the golden child. The wizarding world loved him because Alex was The Boy Who Lived, and Harry knew that being called that meant that Alex was special, more so than normal magical people, who were special on their own. So, since Alex was both special and a wizard, Harry thought, that meant that he was double special." Slytherin!Harry BWL!Twin
1. Prologue

Prologue

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To a five year old Harry, being told that he had to protect his twin was confusing. It was confusing for no other reason other than it being so incredibly obvious. For Harry, protecting his brother was simply a fact of life, a thing that he did without really thinking about it or questioning it, in the same way as the sky was blue, grass was green, and Uncle Siri and Dad could not be left in the same room without something mysteriously exploding or combusting.

Harry had learnt his ABCs with very few hiccoughs to the delight of his tutor, a little under a year ago, and liked to spend time in the family library on the estate, reading the thinner books he could reach and carry. He'd stumbled upon, quite literally tripping over a stack of books and falling into, accounts of Voldemort's attack on his family in Godric's Hollow one chilly autumn evening when he was around four. A thin volume of _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ had fallen out from the lowest shelf of the tallest bookcase as he collided with it, the small thud muffled slightly by both the library's thick carpet and Harry's foot. After the throbbing pain radiating from his toes had subsided, he'd picked up the small hardcover book and then proceeded to devour it. On that day, the knowledge that an evil wizard wanted to harm his brother wasn't fully processed by Harry, partly because he was too young to fully realise what it meant, and partly because Alex had fallen from his toy broom and had broken his ankle that same evening.

Seeing Alex sobbing with pain and clutching his ankle was more painful to Harry than anything else he had felt before. He'd wanted to somehow transfer Alex's injuries to himself, to take all of his twin's burdens as own because, even at that young age, he had just wanted to see Alex smile again. And then, Harry decided that he would protect his younger twin from anything and everything else that would threaten to hurt him, and he made a promise to Alex that same night when both of their senses were dulled by sleepiness to always stay by his brother and best friend's side and look after him, no matter what might happen.

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**A/N:** Ah yes, another Harry-is-not-the-boy-who-lived story. Now that summer has come, I get to finally have enough time to write! Feel free to give me ideas on what I should do with the fic (I could really use them, honestly). I'm set on Alex being a Gryffindor, and I think I'll make Harry a Slytherin. Any characters you particularly want to see? To not see?


	2. Chapter 1: A New Acquaintance

Chapter 1

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The charity ball was held in far too small of an area that contained far too many people to be comfortable. The air inside the ballroom was stifling and constricting, hotter than what a normal cooling charm could aid with, while the air outside in the gardens was a bit too humid to breathe and filled with copious amounts of insects that made an annoying droning voice in the summer evening. The two different types of air met and mingled where there were large open balconies spaced along the length of the room filled with people eager to meet others who were more important and affluent than they. _Suck ups_.

The food, served on elaborate but overdecorated self-replenishing plates on both sides of the room was mediocre at best and dismal at worst, almost to the point where it was as bad as Alex's cooking, though Harry had previously thought that nothing could be as bad as that. (The Potter family's house elves were known to be among the best in the wizarding world, so Harry assumed that it made sense for all foods outside to not taste as good when compared to the meals that they had at home.) There was an annoying buzz of conversation, not unlike the humming of the insects outside taking over the summer night. Harry could see and hear introductions, false joy at meeting higher-ups in The Ministry (when they just needed to use them to secure promotions or raises), and the sickening sweet acidic taste of overplayed flattery that hung in the air like cloying incense.

He was _bored_.

The order twin watched his brother animatedly chatting to a group of adoring ministry workers for a while, probably about quidditch teams and the World Cup last year, the first that the family had been to, from his exaggerated swinging arm movements and attempts to mimic what he assumed to be the Canadian and Scottish seekers as they chased the snitch around the field, Alex had been quite taken with them and hadn't stopped talking about them for weeks following the final match. After the fifth time Alex stretched his arms out in front of him and made a face which he probably intended to look dashing and cool but in reality made him look not dissimilar to a confused grindylow, Harry concluded that there was absolutely nothing at all remotely interesting to do in that overcrowded and obnoxiously loud area.

Shouldering the worn messenger bag that he liked carrying around, Harry silently slipped out of the absurdly coloured ballroom. (he usually _liked_ the colour green, but it was a nauseating vomit colour with specks of red and pink throughout. Looking at it while being choked by the hot, humid air was headache-inducing) Harry headed down a hall with flickering torches on either side of it to what he hoped would be the library, or at least a quiet area where he could sit in peace until it was time to leave. As he walked, the bag, heavy with books and knowledge, thudded against his thigh in a steady rhythm as his shoes made clacking sounds on the stone floor of the corridor. Harry hoped he was going the right way. The year before, the ministry had had another ostentatious event in the same old building, and he remembered finding the library somewhere around that area.

He walked for a few minutes and then followed a side corridor for a bit more, taking a few more turns along the way. Then, after a final right turn, Harry stopped when he realised that the torches on the sides of the continuing part of the corridor weren't lit. When he pivoted to walk back the way he had came from, he realised that he wasn't too sure of which direction that was, whether it was left, left, left, right, left or left, right, left, right, right. Perhaps, it would be neither, and he would be even more lost than he was now. Cursing his abysmal sense of direction, Harry looked down the corridor and concluded that the lack of light probably meant that he wasn't allowed to go that way. After peering down the hallway some more, Harry decided, allowed or not, it looked interesting enough to continue walking further along. If anything, he might find something interesting to occupy himself at the next year's party, provided he could find it next year. (He didn't count on it, honestly)

The thuds his bag made against his leg echoed along the corridor as the child rambled along. The lack of light made it hard to see where he was going, especially since his vision was fairly bad to begin with, but Harry was fairly sure he wouldn't stumble on the stones that paved the ancient-looking mansion's floor. Spying an intricately-carved door that was slightly ajar on his left, Harry stopped walking and pushed at it first with one hand, and then with two when he realised that the old wooden creation was far heavier than he had anticipated. He could feel beads of sweat starting to form on his hairline as he strained. His arms hurt a little. Finally, after several minutes of heaving and shoving, Harry resorted to leaning his back against it and using as much power as he could muster to push with his calves and feet, the door lurched open a bit more with a low groan, just enough for Harry and his bag to squeeze through.

There was an open window on the opposite wall of the mysterious room but it was missing curtains. The sunlight of the summer solstice provided more than enough illumination to make out the contents the new location. It was moderately sized, Harry noted, with an unlit fireplace that had a rusting poker strewn across its sooty hearth, and bare of furniture save for a couple of rickety-looking wooden chairs clustered in a half-circle away from the entrance. It was quiet, though, which was what really mattered. Sweet, beautiful, peace and quiet, bereft of the drones of both insects and humans alike, it was perfect.

Harry briefly wished his parents had taken him to Diagon Ally to get his wand prior to this party, so he could at least attempt to transfigure some furniture while he was waiting (the chairs looked liable to collapse under their own weight any second.) He had most of the spells from his mother's _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ memorised, and a few from the grade 2 textbook. It would have been more fun to actually _do_ the spell than read about it. _Stupid underage magic laws._

Emerging from his thoughts, Harry noted that everything in the room looked relatively clean, save for a thin layer of dust over everything which indicated both that the room hadn't been used in a long time, as well as that the house didn't have any house elves at their service, or that they, like The Ministry's blundering employees who hosted parties similar to these on its behalf, had forgotten that this room existed. Harry made a face when he imagined what Missy, his favourite house elf at the Potter estate, would say if she saw the large amount of dust floating in the air being illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the window. It was a pity, the room could be quite cozy if it was cleaned up properly, with a few more pieces of furniture.

Covering his hand with the sleeve of his robes, Harry brushed the dust off of two of the chairs. He gingerly settled down on the one closest to the window. There was a creaking sound, but it didn't break under his weight, so he scooted a bit further back, sitting in the middle and crossing his legs under him, and retrieved _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ from his bag. Harry placed the book on his lap and deposited the significantly lighter bag on the second chair he had cleaned. Finding his bookmark, he relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable chair and continued reading about where Merpeople lived.

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"Oh!" a shocked voice exclaimed, startling Harry from his chapter on Erumpents and their feeding habits. He slipped his bookmark into the book again and closed it before looking up at the owner of the voice so at least he wouldn't lose his page if he was going to be kicked out for "unlawful trespassing" or whatever the adults called it.

A girl with short brown hair tied up in a high ponytail was standing in front of his seat, one hand resting on her waist. She didn't look cross, just surprised, and Harry briefly entertained the thought that she, perhaps, was an auror in disguise come to arrest him before dismissing it. Nobody, not even the idiotic Ministry, would send aurors on missions to incapacitate children who were simply reading.

"Hullo" he said simply, trying to look as innocent as possible. It was a look that he often used on Missy to beg hot cocoa in winters, and it generally worked.

"Hi" she said, "How are you finding this gathering?"

_So she's a pureblood, and a member of the older families then._ Harry deduced quickly, _she's observing the older tradition of asking about the satisfaction of others before inquiring into other, more pressing, matters. A prestigious family probably, one that cares enough about their reputation to teach their children to observe the same traditions even around those around their age, even in informal circumstances. So, a pureblood family with a child. Hmm. Not a Malfoy, not with that hair. I know for a fact that Notts only have one child, a son, as do Zabinis. I know Daphene and Astoria, which eliminates the Greengrass family So, probably a Parkinson then. Their daughter's name was something flowery, if he remembered properly. Violet? No. Rose? Don't think so... Pansy? Pansy! That was it!_

Feeling satisfied with his conclusion, Harry replied, "I'm finding it well, though a slight bit tedious, thank you. Yourself?" _There_," he thought, _I've replied the proper way as well _

She gave a brief, satisfied, smile, "The very same. I'm Pansy Parkinson" she said, before extending her hand in offer of a handshake. _So I was correct. Good. _

Harry took it with a smile of his own, "Harold Potter, call me Harry."

The conversation paused while they shook hands, then Pansy continued, "I had no idea that anyone else knew about this place, actually. You shocked me a bit, I'm sorry if I startled you."

"No, it wasn't your fault. I don't think most people assume that there's a person reading in every room they walk into," Harry replied jokingly, "especially if they thought that nobody else knew about it. Are you hiding from the atrocious wallpaper in the main room as well?" He was rather proud of being able to use the word "atrocious"; he'd only learnt it the day before and had been looking for an opportunity since.

She laughed, "It is horrid, isn't it? It's supposed to be the "_latest thing_" among the higher ups in The Ministry." her voice became a shrill falsetto when mimicking the adults, with a dramatic shudder for emphasis, "My mother was threatening to paint the dining room in it, though Merlin knows how we'd manage to eat there afterwards."

Harry grinned with her. She seemed nice, and she seemed to dislike the same things as he did, which meant that she was pretty okay in his book. "Are you going to Hogwarts this year? You seem old enough." he asked. Hopefully she was, they could laugh at the awful tastes of others together.

She nodded, "Yes! My parents are taking me to buy my supplies in a few days." She paused, "I think I'll be in Slytherin, most of my family were in Slytherin. My mum says I show a lot of Slytherin qualities."

"I'm going as well," Harry responded, "though I have no idea which house I'll be in. My family has a lot of Gryffindors, but I don't think I'll be one, I'm not nearly impulsive enough."

She snickered, "Those Gryffindors are far too foolhardy. Better be in Slytherin, you'll live longer too!"

Harry took his bag off the moderately un-dusted chair and put it onto his lap. He motioned Pansy to sit there with a small movement of his hand, and they sat like that until the sun had set and the moon had risen into the air. He talked a bit about the magical creatures in his book and Pansy listened, sometimes adding small things she knew about them that had been passed along in the family through bedtime stories. When the stars came out and twinkled brightly, Pansy, with the enthusiasm of a 10 year old, pulled Harry to the window and showed him the constellations that she had learnt.

"It's the Big Dipper, Harry. How do you almost make it up to your eleventh birthday without knowing what the Big Dipper looks like!" Pansy exclaimed.

"They all look like shimmering balls of light to me!" Harry protested weakly, "Where was it again?"

"Under Draco, the dragon. I showed that constellation to you only about ten minutes ago, don't tell me you forgot that too." she rolled her eyes, smiling. "It's made out of seven stars, and it looks sort of like a giant, stellar, soup ladle."

By the time their parents had come to retrieve them, with the aid of some child-locating charms and a nifty spell to push open the heavy door, Harry and Pansy found that they quite liked each other's company. The families walked out together, navigating through the mansion using a navigation spall that James had cast. It was left, left, right, right, right, **left**, and that irked Harry. The entire time, Alex was going on about how cool it was that Harry found an almost-secret room inside the old mansion and about other interesting people at the gathering that he had talked to. Pansy's mother fawned over "the little saviour" but Pansy sent Harry a sympathetic look while walking next to him.

At the entrance of the mansion, the two families that had been walking and conversing together parted to go their separate ways. Harry was surprised with a hug from his new friend and the promise of the loan of an astrology book. He decided to send Pansy a copy of _Humanoid Creatures and Their Origins_ the next time the family went to Diagon Alley and they promised to write to each other once they had purchased their owls.

Even though it was a Ministry event, which normally automatically made it terrible, Harry thought that this was one gathering that he wouldn't mind going to again.

Not that he would, mind you. Newfound friend or not, it was still a Ministry event, they were bound to mess up the next one.

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**A/N: **New Chapter out? In a day? I was hit with a drastic case of the writing virus, and (sadly) I don't expect it to happen too often. I'm (not) sorry that Harry was a mini-Sherlock at the beginning of the chapter; Sherlock's one of my favourite characters from literature. Also, don't panic, I plan to only have Harry and Pansy have a platonic relationship. (unless you, the readers, would like them to get together at some point)

To address the concerns in a few reviews about too many Slytherin!Harry and Gryffindor!Sibling fics, I completely agree. However, in order for some things I have planned to happen, Harry needs to be in Slytherin with Slytherin connections that are forged by being in the same house, and Alex needs to likewise be in Gryffindor for the same reason. However, I think I'll make a very Gryffindor Harry, (as Gryffindor as a Slytherin can get) and a fairly Slytherin Alex. However, I'm going to try write about house unity, so Harry will probably have friends in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw (in addition to Slytherin, of course), but I plan on Alex being a prat at the beginning to Slytherins (he **is** James' son, still) and the Gryffindors following his example. (so, not many Gryffindor friends in the beginning for Harry) Alex, of course, will have a circle of Gryffindor admirers.

If there are any characters you particularly want Harry or Alex to become friends with, please tell me about it!


	3. Chapter 2: Birthday

Chapter 2

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_As of 31/7/14, the Potter family cat, Mopsy, has officially been rechristened "Flopsy" to avoid confusion with the Potter family house elf, Missy. Sorry for any confusion this may have caused._

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There was an annoying, piercing light. It hurt his eyes and Harry scrunched up his nose, burrowing deeper under his duvet. "M'k t stop." he mumbled, blindly sticking out one arm and feeling around for his pillow which he promptly shoved on top of his head, still under the mound of blankets. Harry dimly registered a sound of curtains being pulled back and moaned in pain when the lights seemed to get brighter, even through the blanket shield that he had constructed.

There was a voice in his room. It was a voice that didn't belong there. "Ree! It's time to get up!", it sang in an obnoxiously cheery tone. Harry groaned again. _No. Oh Merlin no._

"Go 'way, Lex. T's too early for this. We 'greed I don't wake 'fore noon, 'member?" Harry grumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around himself, only to have his heavenly cocoon of warmth snatched away from him abruptly.

"But it's our _birthday_!" Alex continued in his irritatingly chirpy tone, not caring that his _**older **_**twin** was currently turning into the human equivalent of an icicle on his bed, "You promised we'd go to Diagon Alley to pick up our school supplies today!"

_It's too early for this. I didn't get enough sleep for this._ Harry rolled over and laid face down on the mattress. He'd stayed up quite late last night in the library, since he'd found an interesting charms book and had lost track of time. Now, he regretted it. "But it's not even noon yet!" he complained, closing his eyes again and trying in vain to reach out for the quickly vanishing smoke tendrils of the dream world.

"But you promised!" Alex sang in his far-too-joyful voice that pierced through Harry's sleepy haze like the agonising glare of themorning sun. The younger twin bustled around the room, opening the curtains further and allowing more of the wretched light in.

Harry sighed loudly as he realised that he wouldn't get back to sleep that morning, not with Alex in his room. The calming fog of sleep had completely dissipated and he was awake now, albeit not willingly. Sitting up, he lifted a hand to right a lock of hair that was poking him in the cheek and put as much venom into a glare as he could. "Alex, I hate you."

Alex laughed, "t's not very affective, with your bedhead and all." he leaned over the bed and ruffled Harry's hair, further messing it up, "Love ya too, brother!"

The elder twin shuffled over to the side of the bed and sat there with his legs dangling towards the ground. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked up and inquired, "What're you doing, Lex?"

"Finding you something acceptable to wear, of course." the youngest child replied, looking up from where he was rifling through Harry's wardrobe. "We can't let you dress yourself, not after the disasters of last year."

"I'm _eleven_." Harry complained. _And that means I'm too old to have other people dress me, even if the other person's my twin brother. _

"And still incapable of knowing good outfits from horrid ones." _Humph_

The older twin eyed Alex warily but didn't interrupt his brother. A few minutes later, a muggle outfit consisting of a striped t-shirt, jeans, and hooded jacket was laid out onto the bed. It was the exact same as what Alex was wearing, but Harry's top was striped light green instead of Alex's maroon. He raised an eyebrow at his brother's choices.

"Yeah, it was on purpose" Alex grinned, picking up on the unsaid question.

They looked alike enough, but were really extremely different. The younger twin by 34 minutes, Alex loved company and social interactions, and could speak for hours on any topic that interested him. He played quidditch, seeker, and was naturally more muscular than his older brother, taking after their father physically rather than their mother. Aside from his temper and extreme sense of morals, from Lily, Alex resembled a smaller version of James, glasses and all.

The older twin, on the other hand had inherited both Lily's love for academics and her intelligence, according to Mr Fizzbeatle, the twins' tutor. Like Alex, Harry resembled James, but was slender like his mother and had Lily's almond eyes. He was the quieter child, preferring to sit in the silence of the library or the shadow of the weeping willows outside on the Potter estate with a book on his lap rather than play games of Quidditch with his father, Alex, and Uncle Siri.

Still, at a glance, they looked almost the same, their eyes hidden behind glasses and bodies obscured by the folds of their clothing, which meant that they often were mistaken for each other as children. They used to wear the same outfits, or switch clothing halfway through the day and laugh when people got their names wrong. However, they hadn't done that for a long time, not since Alex started gaining muscle and Harry became paler as a result of time spent reading in the Potter Family Library. Though, it was nice to do things for old time's sake, Harry supposed, so he shooed Alex out of his room and shrugged on the outfit without complaint, tying his jacket around his hips.

Toeing his slippers on, Harry shuffled to his en suite bathroom. There, the elder twin brushed his teeth and created a foam beard, giggling the whole time, modelled after a wizard named Albus Dumbledore whose picture he'd gotten on a chocolate frog card. After washing away the toothpaste, he tried in vain to tame his bedhead but was unsuccessful, like most days.

Giving up on the impossible task, Harry walked downstairs to the dining room where Missy was laying out the breakfast, his and Alex's favourite from the looks of it. James and Lily, evidently having just been woken up by Alex, were both still in their pyjamas and were sitting at their regular spots at the table already eating. Harry swiped a glass of pumpkin juice and sat down with a small stack of pancakes which he drizzled a bit of golden syrup onto. Alex, on the other hand, was given an expertly toasted peanut butter sandwich as well as another glass of pumpkin juice.

"Where's Flopsy?" Harry inquired, picking up his fork.

Flopsy was an old cat, a year younger than the Potter twins. They'd gotten her a bit after the brothers had had their first birthday. Coincidentally, her own birthday was on the same day as the twins', and they always celebrated by giving her extra love and attention. Harry had made her a toy mouse a week ago and was looking forward to giving it to her.

Lily glanced around the room. "I haven't seen her since last night. Though, I think she's probably dozing in the library, seeing as she seems to prefer the chairs there lately."

Harry nodded. That was probably partially his fault. He liked petting her as he read, and the overweight cat had taken to staying in that room most of the time, following him around the library as he searched for interesting books.

"So, what do you boys plan on doing in Diagon Alley today?" James asked, swallowing a bite of bacon.

"**EVERYTHING**!" replied Alex enthusiastically.

"I want to visit Flourish and Blotts; Pansy told me they have a lot of spellbooks." spoke Harry coolly. Alex, sitting beside him, had managed to get peanut butter on his nose, and Harry was trying his best to not laugh at his oblivious expression, which would draw his twin's attention to it and mean that Alex would wipe it off, depriving him of his current entertainment. To his dismay, Lily reached across the table with her napkin and rubbed at it. Alex tried to jerk away but failed.

"Mum! Stop it!" he grumbled.

Lily, having been satisfied that Alex didn't have any more foodstuffs on his face, had sat back in her seat. Alex's nose was pink. Harry chuckled and was promptly elbowed by his twin for doing so, but it just made him laugh harder. His laugh was contagious, and soon the entire family was chortling together.

They stopped when Alex looked up from his pumpkin juice and exclaimed "Look! The window!" Outside, two small dark shapes stood out from the blue of the rest of the cloudless sky. As the family watched, they became larger and larger until Harry recognised them to be owls. As the approached, he could see that they were each carrying something tied to their leg.

"It looks like your acceptance letters have arrived." Lily remarked happily, standing up and opening the dining room window to allow them in.

"Now we can finally have some peace and quiet in the house, since both of you are going." James joked. Alex laughed and Lily leaned over to muss up his hair, though it didn't make much of a difference.

Harry and Alex had stood up to go receive their owls. Harry, having been closer, checked the letter tied to the first owl's leg.

"This one has yours." he said to Alex with an inclination of his head.

Moving to the other owl, Harry gently untied the letter and placed it on the worktop the owls were standing on, stroking his owl's head and chin with the back of his index finger. It tried to looked proud and regal at first, but it soon gave up and closed its eyes, relaxing into Harry's touch. He thought it was adorable. Alex, meanwhile, had tugged his letter off of his owl, earning himself a sharp reprimanding nip in the process for not having the patience to pull apart the knot.

Harry motioned to the owls to follow him, and led them to the study, where their own family owl, Mercury, resided. He refilled Mercury's water and food, and gave the Hogwarts owls some owl treats; they deserved them, after all. The owls drank some water and each gave a small bow to Harry in thanks. Not knowing what to do, Harry petted each of them on the head and opened the window to allow them to leave when they felt like it.

Returning to the dining room, He retrieved the letter with his name written on the front from the worktop. "Harold James Potter", it proclaimed in elegant, flowing script. Unfolding it, his eyes darted across the page as he read:

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. H. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

There was a second sheet behind that with a list of items that he needed to bring and Harry sat down with that, reading between bites of pancake and sips of pumpkin juice.

The rest of breakfast passed rather uneventfully, with a few "pass the syrup, please" and "where did my bloody fork g– oh."s

Dabbing at his mouth with his napkin, Harry set down his cutlery was abruptly yanked up by an already finished Alex who dragged him away from the table.

"It's time to open our presents!" Alex proclaimed with his seemingly never ending enthusiasm.

James and Lily shared a smile at Alex's antics and followed their children to the living room. There, two stacks of presents laid with two enchanted banners proclaiming the recipients, one small and one large; the larger one came roughly up to Harry's waist.

Alex's pile was bigger than Harry's, but that was normal; many relatives of the family only knew of Alex Potter, The Boy Who Survived The Killing Curse, and not of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Didn't Do Anything Spectacular. The Minister of Magic, trying to get into the Potter Family's good graces, often sent Alex magnificent gifts, only occasionally remembering to include Harry. Privately, the elder twin thought that the presents that he _had_ received were probably sent by the The Minister's secretary; The Minister himself probably didn't know he existed. Although he had thought he was used to it, a painful twinge went through Harry when he looked at the two uneven piles of gifts. His vision went slightly blurry and he swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, turning away from the two piles of presents. James and Lily, cooing over Alex, who was already tearing into his presents, wrapping paper and ribbons flying, didn't notice.

Taking a deep breath, Harry traipsed towards his pile and sat down, looking over at Alex. He'd already uncovered several boxes of Honeyduke's sweets, some scattered muggle gift vouchers (from their mother's side), and a modest-sized pile of books that Harry knew Alex wouldn't actually read. They'd go to the family library and the older child would probably end up devouring them. It was a pity though. At a glance, Harry could tell that they were mostly fairly pricy and moderately rare.

Carefully picking up a slim, flat present from his pile ("to Harry, from The Minister, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Order of Merlin, First Class" it proclaimed in flowery golden script. So, this was one of the years where Fudge had a competent secretary, Harry assumed), said child used his nail to carefully pick away the tape that was used to seal it closed. Unlike Alex, he couldn't bring himself to simply rip at the beautiful wrapping paper that contained his gifts, so he continued like that, slowly and methodically stripping away the tape from his present until, at last, a book was revealed. It was _Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart, and Harry grimaced.

He'd read one of the books that the incompetent fool had written before and honestly didn't think that it was worth the hour that he put into reading it, or even the paper that it was printed on. The author in question grinned at him with perfect, blinding teeth from the front of the novel and Harry found him to be completely and utterly insufferable. His hand twitched and he turned it so that the cover now faced the floor; he'd use it for transfiguration practice later, once he'd obtained his wand. Looking to the side, he saw that Alex had added a box each of of Chocolate Frogs, Liquorish wands, and Droobles Best Blowing Gum to the pile, as well as a few atrociously coloured sweaters from some distant aunts on their Dad's side.

Turning back to his own pile, Harry blinked hard and selected a large rectangular present. "from Lily", the label read. He tested its weight with one hand. Seeing as it was extremely heavy, he guessed it was a book and carefully opened it, taking great care not to rip the packaging or have the tape bring any pieces of the coloured wrapping paper. It was indeed a book. The cover proclaimed it to be about potions, which was a subject that Harry liked to read about. He'd possessed a children's potions set when he was younger, but he had used up all of the ingredients and had purposefully invented a potion that melted Alex's bed and part of the floor when they'd had an argument so James and Lily hadn't had bought him more. It just lay in the attic now. Harry was glad of potions classes so he could apply the knowledge that he'd accumulated over the years. The now eleven year old child placed _One Thousand Common Potions and Their Antidotes_ next to his first gift and stood up to kiss his mother on her cheek in unspoken thanks.

"It's a pleasure." Lily smiled, pleased. Harry smiled back and hesitated a little, half stepping forward, towards her, his arms raising slightly, before stopping and returning to where he was previously sitting. Lily's smile faltered a slight bit.

He picked up his next present ("from James Potter", it said in his father's messy chicken scratch.) It rattled when it shook it, and it did the same when he put it down, when he wasn't touching it. Harry was a bit nervous about opening this present. Like the last time, he carefully slid his nail along the pieces of tape that held it together and cautiously opened it.

It was a collapsable chess set, currently folded in half with the checked board facing out. The black and white board was shiny, and the wood boarder around it was stained a dark brown and polished until it shone. It was beautiful. However, that didn't account for the movement, and Harry, curious, flipped the latch that locked the board in the folded position. Upon opening the board, he realised what was making the sounds. It was a _magical_ chess board, and the pieces contained inside were moving about on their own. A queen stood up and waved at Harry while a black king ran circles around two white prawns and the white king. "Blimey..." Harry breathed, entranced at the sight.

"D'ya like it, Ree?" James asked, kneeling beside his son.

_Of course I don't, I bloody love it!_ "It's absolutely brilliant!" Harry sincerely said, then, surprising himself, he leaned over and gave his father a hug.

"I noticed your muggle chess set was becoming a bit worn, and I saw Mopsy make off with your rook a few days ago, so I thought I'd get you a good-quality magical one. There's an instruction sheet in there somewhere that'll teach you some basic upkeep charms as well as a bag to hold all the pieces." James smiled, patting Harry's back. His oldest son disliked too much physical contact, and enthusiastic hugs from him were few and far between, so the father and son cherished the warm moment.

"Merlin's beard! Mum, Dad, woah! Look at this! Look at what The Minister of Magic got me!" Alex shouted, brandishing a brand new broomstick. The mood was changed, the atmosphere destroyed, and James gave an apologetic look to Harry as he joined his wife in cooing over Alex's new Comet 260. Harry's chest hurt.

Sighing, Harry returned to his pile. There was a fog obscuring his vision and he wiped an eye with his sleeve. Then, he slowly opened a few more presents from close relatives (Cauldron Cakes, Peppermint Toads, and Pumpkin Pasties, one of each, as well as a book simply titled _Ingredient Encyclopaedia_, another called _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_, and the last, _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_). Andromeda sent him a large, scruffily wrapped box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and Harry made a mental note to pen a thank you letter to her later.

Turning his head, Harry saw that Alex's food pile had doubled in size in addition to his book pile tripling. He'd acquired even more horrid looking sweaters and even a vase, though Harry had no idea why anyone would send an eleven year old a swirled glass flower holder. Still, his twin's pile was more than double Harry's, and the twingeing came back when he looked at it.

Harry had two more gifts now, and he selected the smaller one first. "Remus" it simply said on the front. It was fairly light and made muffled squeaking noises when he shook it. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was as he gingerly slid the box out of its brightly coloured wrapping paper. Harry was surprised with what he held in his hands. It was a box; "Ice Mice" it said on the front with a smaller font promising "hear your teeth chatter and squeak!". There was a Honeydukes' logo on the side and, with an amused smile, Harry could tell that he would enjoy those. Making a note to write a thank you letter to Sirius too, Harry picked up the last present.

It was odd, the last present, simply because all of the gifts from people who normally remembered his birthday had already been opened. Cautiously, Harry shook it and nothing happened. It didn't make any rattling sounds like the chess set or squeak like the ice mice, and there was no other sounds except for the crinkling of the wrapping paper in his hands. There was no tag either, so it made the purple-clad gift all the more mysterious. Curiosity piqued, Harry opened it like all the presents before that (carefully, without tearing the paper) and slid the gift gently onto the floor.

There was a gift tag wrapped with the gift and he picked that up first. There was a moving image on the front of a cake with flickering candles with the word "Blow!" written in large silver letters. Turning it around in his hand, the back was blank, Harry concluded that there was nothing else to it so he did what it commanded, gently letting out a soft stream of air, his lips pursed in an "o". The tag opened, becoming a card, and some multicoloured confetti flew out and landed in his hair. The shock of the confetti made Harry drop the card and he laughed, picking it up again and skimming over it. "Happy birthday, Harry!" the card read, "Mother told me that yours was today, she's an editor of _Witch Weekly_ and they ran a column for your twin a few years back, and I thought that I simply _had_ to send you a gift. Obviously, I chose it after our conversation a month ago. See you at Hogwarts! -Pansy." Re-reading his card, he noticed her choice of words. Pansy had said "I simply had to send _you_ a gift", not "you and Alex". This was one of the few times in Harry's life where he'd received a gift that wasn't given as a formality to "the other twin" because the actual gift was to go to The Boy Who Lived. There was a fuzzy feeling emanating from his chest that wasn't there before; it swept away the lingering twinges and made Harry feel warm and extremely happy._ I have a friend. _

He smiled and picked up the actual present. It was a collapsable silver telescope with intricate carvings detailing its surface which was buffed to a brilliant shine. There was not a single scratch on it, and Harry spied an instruction manual with charms to keep said telescope that way. It looked like an antique, and Pansy must have spent quite a lot on it. Carefully, he placed it beside his other gifts, promising himself to write a letter thanking her as well.

Checking Alex's progress, Harry noted that he still had a few more to unwrap, so he picked up his largest gift and started reading through _One Thousand Common Potions and Their Antidotes_ while he waited.

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A hand shook him from his passage cautioning the reader against obtaining their own basilisk venom. "C'mon, Ree, we need to get our presents back to our rooms. Diagon Alley awaits!" Alex's voice called in his ear. Their parents were already levitating Alex's pile upstairs– a child couldn't carry that much, it just wasn't feasible– so Harry stood and picked up his small pile of items, carrying them back to his bedroom where he placed them on his desk, for further investigating when he got home.

Hurrying downstairs, Harry toed on the pair of black sneakers that Alex pushed towards him without complaint. James and Lily were there already, and the family went to the study. Lily first penned off a reply to the school, and James knelt down before the fireplace and took out his wand. "_Incendio_" he murmured, and a fire sprang up amongst the half-burnt logs– Missy or another house elf would put it out once they'd left. The family took turns each grabbing a pinch of floo powder from the box on the mantelpiece and throwing it into the fireplace, clearly speaking the words "Diagon Alley." With a whirl of green flames, they all vanished.

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**A/N:** I'm going to a camp soon, for about two weeks, so I won't be able to update there because I'll be forced to run around outside (blerg.) This is a fairly long chapter, for me at least (I honestly did not anticipate it being close to this long), so it shall be my parting gift to you before I leave for the terrifying outdoors.

I was planning on writing Harry and Alex's birthday as one chapter, but it got really long and I decided to end it here. That means one more chapter before they go to Platform 9 3/4 (in chapter 4, which I have written already). In the next chapter, Harry's going to meet Draco at Madame Malkin's.

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Chapter 3

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The family emerged at a general floo area. Alex tumbled out, getting soot all over his clothes, but Harry had managed to get the hang of it after the fifth or so time, so he only pitched forward a little before quickly righting himself, offering a helping hand to his twin on the ground. There were half a dozen fireplaces built into the half-open area. A stall on the side had a sign proclaiming "One pinch floo powder: 3 sickles" and was managed by a bored-looking witch with a pen in her mouth, doing the Daily Prophet's crossword section. Several cleaning charms later, Lily deemed the family decent, they strolled out of the floo area and onto the main, cobbled, street.

Harry instantly spotted one of the stores he wanted to go to, Flourish and Blotts. There was a cauldron shop by it that looked interesting and, a little bit down the street, there was an ice cream shop with a sign above it that stated it was called "Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour". He hadn't been to Diagon Alley too many times, but he remembered going there last Yuletide and he was particularly fond of both their pancake and butterbeer flavoured ice creams. Walking a bit more, the family passed a herd of children about Harry's age, pressed against a window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. They were crooning about the newest racing broom, the Nimbus Two Thousand, which was supposed to be "the fastest ever" or something of that sort. Both Alex and James looked like they were seriously considoring joining them, but a sharp look from Lily made their awed expressions turn sheepish and slightly guilty. Harry giggled inwardly.

The family took a trip to Gringotts where James and Lily refilled their money pouches and Alex enjoyed the ride in the cart (Harry felt a little queasy, but it cleared up once they got outside.) There was a massive giant of a man inside, emptying out his pockets in search of something. He scattered a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the pristine polished countertop in front of him and Harry suppressed a laugh at the facial expression of the goblin behind it. On the way out, Harry memorised the inscription on the innermost silver door, liking the rhyme of the words. He repeated it to himself softly while the family walked along to their next destination.

"Harry, what're you mumbling?" Alex asked, walking beside him.

"The passage on the door of Gringotts. I'm memorising it." Harry replied.

"Blimey." Alex said, awed. It _was_ pretty long. "C'mon, recite it!" he continued enthusiastically.

Harry smiled but obliged, taking a breath in and speaking in a soft but powerful voice. It was the voice that he'd perfected a year and a bit ago with the aid of a mirror and a muggle voice recorder and he was glad to finally use it.

"_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._"

Harry took another breath and continued; he'd run out of air.

"_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._"

He'd slowed down as he was nearing the end, a ritardando, and privately thought that it amplified the mood of the ominous-sounding passage. James and Lily clapped from either side of the twins and Alex looked awed.

"You memorised all of that just now?" The taller twin remarked, half asking and half commenting.

"Yup" Harry grinned. It felt good to be acknowledged.

The family headed down the wide cobble street with the sun merrily shining on their backs, a silent agreement that they'd go to Ollivanders to wands the twins their wands first. Wands, after all, were more important to the wizard than books, robes, cauldrons, quills, or pets. They passed a shop called Eeylops Owl Emporium, another store that Harry needed to visit before leaving for Hogwarts. The green-eyed twin had been considering a barn owl or maybe a masked owl, but he'd make the final choice when he got there. Harry remembered that shop from a couple of years ago when the Potter family had made a unanimous decision to purchase a new bird after their old and forgetful screech owl lost the fight with time. They'd returned with a terrifyingly large Great Grey that turned out to be extremely friendly and mischievous- Mercury used to swoop into the dining room and make off with slices of bacon at breakfast.

Smiling at the memory, Harry realised that he was a bit behind his family and hurried a few steps to catch up, the messenger bag that he always carried with him thumping against his leg. A few more minutes of walking found them in front of a narrow and shabby looking shop. It had a sign over the door, and peeling gold letters displayed the words "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." A lonely-looking wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty shop display window.

Upon opening the door, a bell rang somewhere inside the dark shop. It was very quiet, disconcertingly so, and the air shimmered with a strange and secret magic that made the hairs on Harry's head head tingle. There were shelves upon shelves of boxes piled as high as the ceiling and Harry felt that it was rather like a library in that way, albeit a very dusty and unkept one. A very spindly chair was in the corner of the shop and Alex sat himself on it; Harry personally didn't trust it, and he opened his mouth to caution Alex against sitting there.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice from behind them. James and Lily jumped. Harry jerked and Alex did too. The chair gave out and the younger twin was left sitting on what used to be its seat, on the floor of the dusty old shop. Sighing, Harry rolled his eyes but extended an arm and helped his twin up before turning around and searching for the source of the voice.

It was an old man with eyes so pale that they seemed luminescent like moons in the dark of the shop. His penetrating and unsettling gaze reminded Harry of Mercury back at home.

James chuckled, "20 years later and you still manage to bring out the same reaction in me."

Lily shook her head with a smile, "I think I did the same thing when I came here the first time to purchase my wand. You haven't changed much." she remarked to Mr Ollivander.

The old man nodded and moved closer to the twins. He was about a foot away from Harry now and the elder twin felt a bit uncomfortable with how close the other was. "I thought I'd be seeing you both soon, Harry and Alex Potter."

Not knowing what to do, Harry merely nodded and he saw Alex doing the same. Those silvery owl eyes concentrated on him and Harry stood a bit straighter and defiantly stared back. For a few seconds, nobody moved and it seemed that the world ceased its breathing. Then, the old man blinked and moved back; Harry felt strangely like he'd passed some sort of test.

"You have your mother's eyes," Mr Ollivander suddenly remarked to the shorter brother and, turning to the redhead in question, he continued. "Ten and a quarter inches, wasn't it? Willow, swishy, good for charms. It seems like you were only here yesterday, buying your first wand."

Lily nodded politely, "I still have it. It's a marvellous creation."

"And James!" the shop owner said enthusiastically, seeming to only have just noticed Harry's father, "You favoured the mahogany, correct? Eleven inches. Pliable. Quite powerful, actually. Good for transfiguration."

James, copying Lily, nodded as well.

Mr Ollivander turned back to the twins. "Well, I say your father favored it– it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." He moved towards Alex and Harry watched wide-eyed as he touched the lightning scar on his twin's forehead with a pale, bony finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he continued softly, almost in a whisper, "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..." he shook his head, as if shaking out those thoughts from his mind, and looked back at the taller child, taking a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

Alex proffered his right arm and Mr Ollivander started measuring him shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. Harry could tell that Alex was having trouble standing so still and he gave his twin a thumbs up in encouragement. Alex grinned back. As he measured, the shop owner explained, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons." Leaving the tape measure, which had started measuring Alex on its own, the old man disappeared among the shelves of wands. Harry could still hear him talking, the sound travelling very well in the dusty little shop. "No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, one will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

There was a clatter to Harry's right; Mr Ollivander had returned, his arms piled high with stacks of thin rectangular boxes. They teetered dangerously and Harry was half afraid that they would fall.

"That will do," the old man said with a nod, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Now then. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Alex had barely touched the wand before the shopkeeper snatched it out of his hand.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try–"

The same thing occurred again; Alex had barely raised his arm before the wand was switched with another.

This continued for quite a while; Mr Ollivander muttering and grabbing more boxes from the shelves. Occasionally, there would be tiny hints of _something_ coming out from the wand that Alex tried, illuminating the excited face of the shop owner in the darkness of the dusty store.

"No no no no." the man muttered, snatching up another box from the pile he had bought initially. Strangely enough, he didn't seem frustrated as the pile of tried wands grew higher and higher. Instead, he seemed happier, as if he was aging backwards and had regained the enthusiasm of childhood that time had stripped away from adults.

"Hawthorn and unicorn hair. 10 inches and reasonably springy; go on and–" Alex had scarcely moved his hand before it was snatched away, just like the others before that.

"A tricky customer, huh?" Mr Ollivander exclaimed gleefully, "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere– I wonder, now– yes, why not– unusual combination– holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." he draw one box out from the bottom of the pile and handed it to the younger twin.

When Alex took the wand, Harry sensed that something was different about this one. Although some wands before that produced tiny flickers of light, Harry could literally feel the waves of content happiness radiating from... the _wand_? This was odd. While he couldn't feel any magical intent coming from Alex, the wand in his hand seemed to be... _purring_?

Then, Alex raised the wand above his head, brought it down through the air, and a stream of sparks shot from the the end of it like a firework, throwing spots of light onto the four walls of the tiny shop. James and Lily whooped and clapped; Harry grinned and joined them, happy for both the mysterious purring wand and his brother. The aged shopkeeper cried out "Bravo! Good! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... "

He put Alex's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious.."

Harry's interest was piqued, and he inquired, "I'm sorry, Mr Ollivander, sir, but could you explain what it is that's so curious?"

The shop owner turned around and met Harry's curious gaze with his silvery eyes.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your twin's wand, gave another feather– just one other." the man blinked sadly, turning back to his task at hand, "It is very curious indeed that your sibling should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave yours that scar."

Harry could hear his parents' simultaneous intakes of breath and Alex's gulp. The owl-eyed man turned back to Alex and continued in a voice just above a whisper, "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things– terrible, yes, but great."

Handing Alex his wand, Mr Ollivander turned around to face Harry. "And now you, Harry Potter. I wonder which wand will choose you as its master... After your twin was chosen by that– yes..." the man muttered, picking up the measuring tape again. He measured Harry exactly like he measured Alex and started darting around the store again, pulling out even more boxes.

The tape measure was measuring between his eyes and Harry closed them to avoid being accidentally being poked there. When he blinked open his eyes again, the pale-eyed shopkeeper was standing in front of him once more with another pile of precariously balanced boxes.

"Vine and dragon heartstring. 12 and a quarter inches. Reasonably springy. Just like before. Go on now."

Like his twin before him, Harry couldn't seem to connect with any of the wands that he tried. They all felt cold in his hands, some more so than others, and the magic inside them seemed... dissatisfied when he waved them. He wasn't sure if that was normal or not, so Harry kept quiet about it.

After his pile of tried wands grew higher and higher, surpassing even Alex's, the older brother asked "Since some of the wands Alex tried produced small sparks, couldn't I just try those?"

Mr Ollivander shook his head from, behind a half-empty shelf. "You were right to assume that your magical core is similar to your twin's because of your blood connection. However, relatives hardly ever have similar wands because of additional factors. Unless..." He stopped and thought about it for a bit, "Unless two people are the exact same in every possible aspect, their chosen wands will continue to be different. People who are extremely alike will have similar magical cores, yes; if your brother had resonated partially with another wand, a bit more than just tiny sparks, I would have you try that one. Though... I wonder..." the owls eyed shopkeeper stopped again from somewhere in the back of the store. "Well, why not, really. Why, we've had one curious thing happen today; why not two?"

With that, the man bustled towards the front of the shop with alarming speed and snatched the wand from the display. Harry blinked and suddenly Mr Ollivander was in front of him again.

"Try this one." he said softly, holding the wand out in front of him.

Harry reached his hand out towards it. Before he touched it, he could already feel the power within the wand responding to his own. There were pulsing waves of warmth radiating from it. When he grasped it in his hand, he could feel the difference between this one and those countless others that he'd tried before. It almost _hummed_ in Harry's hand and the feeling... it was so beautiful that Harry had no words for it. He could only really describe it as being like... like _coming home._

Harry extended his arm forward and flicked it up with a sharp movement from his wrist. Time seemed to slow and the tip of the wand exploded with a shower of silver and gold sparks that lit up the walls of the shop. Mr Ollivander let out a shout of happiness. Harry could feel the waves of warmth travelling along the wand and it seemed to pulse with it. The sparks were like the confetti streaming out from his card that morning, but seemingly endless.

They continued to stream forth, and Harry wasn't sure he consciously knew how to stop it. Then, his wrist made an instinctive motion, as if on its own. The wand in his hand followed, making a whole, unbroken circle in the dusty air of the shop.

The light show slowed, then stopped but Harry could still feel the exhilarating humming from the wand that he knew to be _his_. His family, shocked to silence by the suddenness of it all, started clapping, the sounds echoing through the little store. Alex's eyes were wide and Harry threw him an uncertain smile.

Mr Ollivander was beaming, and the expression looked out of place coupled with his pale owl-like eyes. Fixing those eyes on Harry, he spoke in a soft but noticeably happy voice, "14 inches, reasonably pliable– though I advise you not to try bending it– made of yew, with thestral tail hair as its core... A difficult material to obtain, harder enough to use well... One of my ancestors made that wand– we actually stopped using thestral hair as a result of this, because no wizard has ever been chosen by it and it ended up in the store window as a result– That is, before you walked into my shop... Indeed," he turned, addressing James, "Mr Potter, after witnessing the two wands choose their counterparts today, I daresay that we can expect great things from this family." spinning around, the shop owner faced Harry again. "Treat it well, Harry Potter... That wand is a powerful one and you must strive to be too, to be able to wield it."

They paid 16 gallons for their wands and Mr Ollivander bowed when they left the dark, dusty shop for the brightness of the day. Harry carefully placed his wand into his bag, next to _You & Your Owl_. Casting a quick _tempus_, the parents realised that it was nearing noon, and that meant that it was almost time to have lunch.

"We have enough time for three small stores or one large one, I reckon." Lily guessed, "Do you want to split up and buy supplies separately or all go to the same place?"

"Let's split up." James said with a gleam in his eyes, "I'll take Alex and go buy some miscellaneous items, you could take Harry to buy the books." Harry guessed they'd go to the quidditch store, despite what he'd said. Lily seemed to know it too, but a few hours surrounded by books seemed to be a bit too much to resist for her.

"Alright." she agreed, "We'll meet up at the Leaky in two hours, alright? Don't be late."

Both Alex and James nodded eagerly and raced off down the street. Lily sighed and turned to Harry. "I have three children."

Harry laughed. Together, they walked to Flourish and Blotts. The manager greeted them and apologised for the nonexistent mess- they had closed briefly about a month back due to an infestation of bookworms. Harry thought that she had a soft spot on them, since they regularly bought ridiculously large amounts of books and probably contributed significantly to the shop's revenue, but didn't comment on it.

An hour and a half later, Harry emerged from the back with several stacks of books. There were the standard books for first year students, two of each for both Harry and Alex, and Harry had put together a small pile of few books that he deemed interesting enough to read. Among them were arithmancy and transfiguration textbooks, magical creature encyclopaedias, guides on ingredient pairing for creating potions, and a stack of spellbooks– Harry had recently entered a phase where he wanted to learn anything and everything about duelling and spellwork, and had read all the books in the Potter Library that were of his level and in English. The eldest twin figured it would take him at least a month to get through all the books he'd just chosen, considering that it was summer and he had nothing else to do; Harry was also extremely excited to try out his new wand.

There was a small selection of miscellaneous items near the front of the store, and the dark-haired boy found a black and silver leather wand holster there. There was a silver clip on the back with built-in charms to attach it pretty much anywhere without it falling off, and Harry decided to add it to the pile of things that were to be bought. He didn't want to lose his newly-acquired wand because of it falling out of his pocket.

After paying for their purchases and shrinking them for easier carrying, Lily and Harry met up with James and Alex (both carrying large bags with _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ written on them in fancy script) in front of the Leaky. As they entered, Tom, the barman, enthusiastically greeted James with a "Nice ta see ya, Potter!"

The father made hurried shushing motions but to no avail. The bar had gone silent, and everyone within it was looking at the twins. Suddenly, there was an almost simultaneous scraping of chairs, and the twins were suddenly surrounded by everyone in the pub at that time.

"Well, which one is it?" someone from the back yelled

Harry sighed resignedly. "I'm Harry Potter and my twin is A–" elbowed out of the way by an overexcited man with a top hat before he'd managed to finish his sentence, Harry glared at said man from his position on the floor.

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle." Harry heard, and wished he could legally cast some minor jinxes so he could retaliate for the bruise that he'd no doubt gotten on his ribs. Gingerly getting up from where he'd been knocked to the floor (thankfully, his bag had landed on top of him, so his wand remained unharmed,) Harry heard a few more overenthusiastic people speaking to Alex.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

There was a pale, twitchy man with a large turban wrapped around his head. He made his way towards Alex very nervously and introduced himself as Professor Quirrell. "A-Alex P-P-Potter," stammered the professor, grasping his twin's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you. I t-teach d-defence at H-Hogwarts, n-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously and Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He was elbowed out of the way too as more voices joined the throng of people. Harry sent him a sardonic smile that he missed.

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud." _I'm a Potter as well_

"Always wanted to shake your hand– I'm all of a flutter." _Swell_.

There was a fairly large crowd of people around Alex now and the eleven year old was completely obscured by the mass around him shaking his hands. Harry slowly made his way to a corner table that his parents had found. There was something in his eye, a piece of dust probably, and Harry rubbed at it furiously with his jacket sleeve until both his eyes were watering. Lily and James, reading the menu, didn't look up and notice. Harry was glad. Making sure that he'd gotten all the fluid from his cheeks, Harry sat down and pulled a book from the bag at random, nudging it towards his parents to have it returned to its normal size. After a few minutes of sitting, they ordered, each picking their own meal. Harry ordered for Alex– they usually had the same meal at the Leaky.

The older twin read _Curses and Counter-Curses_ until the food arrived. By then, the taller, brown-eyed twin had managed to excuse himself from the hoard of people and had joined them at the table. Lily nudged his plate towards Alex and the family finished their meals in silence, ignoring the whispers permeating the air.

After eating, the family paid and stood to leave, with some last people interrupting them to ask for one more handshake from Alex. His twin looked a out of his depth and Harry lightly squeezed his shoulder, earning him a thankful smile.

Finally exiting the Leaky, the Potters went into a nameless stationary shop and emerged with new quills. Harry had found some silvery black anti-blotting eagle feather ones that he liked and had bought a bottle each of colour-changing and glow in the dark ink. Knowing that his twin was atrocious at spelling, Harry nudged a bottle of self-correcting ink towards Alex, who was holding a handful of pheasant feather quills. His twin took it gratefully.

The next stop was at the cauldron shop. The sign on top of the door had been painted over, so Harry had no idea of its name. Alex nearly fell into a large silver cauldron after tripping over a little tiny one and had to be helped up by Lily. The twins chose some brass scales from a selection in the front, and browsed the stacks of cauldrons searching for the correct ones.

Although he requested, asked, begged, and eventually whined, James and Lily didn't let Harry purchase a copper cauldron, saying that the school said to buy pewter. The pewter cauldron was the worst, Harry knew. The lead in the object would get leached out over time, contaminating the potion that was being brewed, and the alloy itself had a laughably low melting point, which meant that only certain _boring_ types of potions could be created with it. Harry vowed to cause an "accident" with his one just before Christmas, so he could go home and purchase an actual decent cauldron as soon as he could.

James discovered the sets of potions phials, all the way in the back of the store. Due to Alex's tendency to break things, the family all agreed to buy him a glass set that wouldn't be too expensive to replace. Harry found a clear crystal set with ornate silver stoppers that he liked and was allowed to have it as an early Yuletide gift.

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Now, they just had two more stores to go and it was almost four o' clock. Since Eeylops closed earlier than Madame Malkin's, they made their way to the dark little shop. Outside, there were cages with all sorts of owls of different colours and shapes in them. Inside, the place was filled with flapping, rustling sounds and bright eyes. Alex had found his owl almost immediately; it was a reddish brown screech owl that excitedly looked at everything with large pale yellow eyes, and Alex had discovered it when the bird had literally flown down from the ceiling and sat on his head. Currently, the younger twin was in Magical Menagerie, the pet shop next door, with both James and Lily, having purchased his chosen pet already. Harry, on the other hand, had his arms full with a barn owl and a scops owl and was trying to decide between them.

Then, there was a commotion in a corner of the shop with a lot of screeching and hooting. Setting the two owls back into their respective cages, Harry cautiously walked towards the source of the sounds to investigate. It was a fight, it seemed, between an extremely white snowy owl and several tawny ones. The snowy owl seemed to have been ganged up on. It was cornered after a few seconds and it screeched and flapped its wings uselessly but the other owls were too strong. Harry, upon seeing the unfairness of it all, immediately darted forward, shooing the other birds away before closely approaching the white owl.

"Hey there, little fella." Harry said in his most placating tone of voice as he kneeled down, reaching his hand forwards and hoping that the owl wouldn't bite him too hard. It was a fairly small owl, for a snowy. Harry had read that they were usually 20 or so inches but the owl in front of him looked to only be about 15. It was bleeding slightly from one wing and looked to be in pain– The older twin had guessed that the shopkeeper would know a few spells to patch it up so he'd decided to bring it to her. But, first he had to get it to trust him.

"C'mere" Harry murmured, moving forwards a little bit. The owl, evidently still a little skittish, hopped back a few steps and eyed him warily. Sighing, Harry sat back onto the stone floor while he waited for the owl to become more accustomed to him. It was quite a beautiful owl, really, with white feathers that barely had any hints of black on its tips and luminous yellow eyes that regarded Harry with a saddening amount of fear. A few moments passed with the boy sitting there, barely moving save for the rise and fall of his chest. Then, the snowy owl moved a bit closer, and then a bit more. small step by small step, the bird inched forward until it stood directly in front of Harry, almost on his lap. Slowly, as slowly as he could as he didn't want to frighten the bird, Harry lifted his arm and offered it to the owl in front of him, holding his breath. The snowy owl regarded it with a critical eye and Harry felt like he was being assessed for the second time that day. Then, it seemed to sigh before hopping delicately onto Harry's sleeve.

Harry carefully made his way to the front of the store, oddly aware of the weight of the bird on his arm. The owner was behind the worktop in front of the shop and Harry slowly made his way over, being mindful not to jostle the owl, which might further injure it.

"I've brought you a snowy owl." he remarked to the owner, "It was being bullied by a few tawny owls and I think one of them pecked her pretty hard."

"Oh, that's one of the runt snowies. 'E was the smallest egg in 'er clutch and just never really grew out of it. Though I'm surprised 'e took ta you that quick. 'E normally doesn't like people." the owner replied, sighing. "Think this is the third time I've had to patch 'er up this week."

Taking the owl from him, the owner healed its injuries with a few sweeps of her wand.

"There," she said, "good as new. Just put 'er on the other side of the shop, will ya? As far away from those tawnies as possible; they're usually the culprits." she shook her head, riotous curls bouncing, and handed the owl back to Harry.

"How old is she?" the child asked, surprising himself. He took the owl and watched her as she settled herself back onto his arm again.

"A lil' over two years now, I reckon. e's really mild-tempered and a sweet lil' thing, but the other guys keep pickin' on 'er. 'Ts just since e's so small, really." The shop owner replied, absently polishing the snowy owl's cage.

Harry thought about it for a minute.

"I'll take her."

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Exiting Eeylops, Harry blinked at the glare of the afternoon sun. His eyes had become adjusted to the darkness of the store and the sunlight now seemed almost comparable to the blinding light of that morning, when Alex had woken him up.

Carrying a detailed silver cage with his little snowy owl inside, fast asleep with her head tucked under her wing, the owl and the boy made their way to the next store, Magical Menagerie. A squashed-looking kitten hissed at him as he entered, retreating back to the shadows of the cages that were stacked up to the ceiling. Harry found Alex easily because of the distinctive Potter hair; he was looking at a couple of fire-breathing crustaceans.

"Ree!" Alex exclaimed, "Look at these crabs! Aren't they brilliant? D'ya think mum would let me get one?" Then, noticing Harry's new pet, "You sure found a pretty owl!"

Harry merely smiled and gave a half shrug, watching as the crabs set fire to the few remaining pieces of decoration in their glass aquarium. There was no way Lily would let them have pets that destructive _around_, let alone _in_ the house and they both knew it. Still, it was nice to dream, so Harry didn't say anything otherwise to his twin and continued walking through the shop, being careful not to let his snowy owl's cage bump into anything.

A few cages down, a giant jewelled tortoise sunned itself on a smooth flat rock. It lifted its head lazily as Harry passed, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement. There was one cage that contained a lot of mice that were skipping, using their tails as rope, and quite a few more that had colourful balls of fluff that made sharp squeaking noises when Harry walked past it. They reminded him of the ice mice that Remus had sent him that morning and Harry looked happily at his new owl; he could ask her to deliver the thank you letters to the people who sent him presents now. He was no longer dependent on sharing Mercury with his parents. Harry's owl, as if sensing his thoughts, ruffled her wings a bit and went back to sleep.

_"Sssso bored."_

Harry cocked his head and listened; he was sure that he'd just heard someone speak.

_"I wisssssh I had another moussse."_

There it was again! Whatever was making the sound seemed quite near. He continued walking, waiting for the mysterious voice to continue speaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a bunch of colour-changing puffskeins stuffed into a comparably tiny cage. Figuring he might as well occupy himself while he waited, he knelt down and ran his finger over one through the coppery bars enclosing it.

"Hey there, little guy." Harry crooned. The puffskein made a loud humming noise and turned a content-looking mauve, making the boy chuckle.

_"Ssssilly human. Thosssse creaturesss cannot underssssstand."_

Harry's head turned quickly to the next cage, where a medium-sized black snake was residing. _Did it?..._

_"Were you sssspeaking to me?"_ Harry inquired, half afraid he was going crazy.

Suddenly, the snake reared back. "_You can ssspeak the sssserpent tongue?"_

Harry wasn't sure if he understood it properly, but he nodded anyway. _We're having a conversation, right? And that would count as speaking. So__ since they're a snake..._

He asked, instead, _"What isss your name?_

_"My previoussss massster named me Erissss, after the Greek goddessss of chaos."_ the snake had settled down into its previous position and looked extremely proud.

_"A beautiful name."_

The snake nodded, pleased.

_"What ssspecies of snake are you, Eriss?"_

Eris jabbed its tail at the sign stuck to the corner of its vivarium. Harry lightly skimmed it. It read:

Species: Black Mamba

Sex: Female

Age: 2 years

Length: 2.5 feet

Additional notes: Charmed to maintain size indefinitely.

10 Galleons

_"Sssso, you cannot grow anymore?"_

_"Yesss."_ the snake nodded, _"My lassst owner liked ssssmaller thingssss. Ssshe placed a sssspell on me before ssshe left the world."_ she paused. _"I sssstill sshed my sssskin though."_

_"Your lassst owner passsed away?"_

Eris nodded, her head bowed. She looked extremely saddened to be reminded of that and Harry instantly felt guilty for bringing it up.

_"My name iss Harry Potter."_ he offered instead,_ "I turned eleven on thissss day."_

_"You're only a little one, then."_ Eris replied, sounding amused.

Harry felt a little miffed. _"You are only two yearsss old, a full eight yearssss younger than I."_

Eris raised her head towards the ceiling and Harry had a feeling that he had just subjected him to the snake's equivalent of rolling her eyes.

_"I may be younger than you, little Harry, in earth yearssss, but I have the wisssdom of all the sssserpents that came before me at my disssposal. I am many timessss older than you."_

Harry sighed, smiling at Eris' defiant tone. _"May I purchassse you and take you home with me?"_

The snake considered it for a while before nodding slowly and delicately. It made Harry feel like he'd just been bestowed a great honour. He carried her cage towards the front of the shop awkwardly, considering he still had his owl in his other hand, and dug some gold coins out of his money pouch that he retrieved from his messenger bag, paying for her and a glass vivarium for her to live in. The owner recommended a rock that was charmed to stay warm and also a water bowl, so Harry bought those too– He'd search up some charms to regulate heat and remove dirt from the vivarium when he got home. The storekeeper was kind enough to shrink all of his purchases so that Harry could easily carry them in his bag and Eris twined herself around his shoulders, stating that she'd rather do that than be put back into the container. It was rather comfortable, and she wasn't all that heavy, so Harry didn't complain.

When Harry found his family again and introduced them to Eris, Alex didn't freak out about Eris as much as Harry had thought he would, which was most definitely good. The twin's father merely stated that she was "brilliant", and didn't say anything against her after Harry mentioned that he could use her shed skin in potions. Lily was mostly concerned about her possibly biting someone. After Harry showed her how docile Eris was, with brilliant acting on said snake's part, she warily accepted her.

And that was how Harry found himself in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions with a snake around his shoulders, being greeted by the shop's namesake dressed in a pale purple colour.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she asked the twins when they walked in, not batting an eyelash at the black mamba that was dozing on Harry. "Got the lot here– another young man being fitted up just now, in fact. "

Behind her, Harry saw a pale, skinny boy with hair that was so blond that it was practically white standing in a footstool while another witch fussed over him. Madame Malkin stood Harry on a similar stool, after he first managed to coax Eris off him and onto the back of a chair nearby. The boy with the curious hair was on his left, and Alex was on his right, also getting fitted for his robes. The shop owner hummed as she slipped a robe over Harry's head and started to pin it to the correct length.

"Hello," said the boy, looking at Harry, "How're you finding it today?" _So he's deliberately using the traditional greeting; probably a pureblood then, especially with that hair._

There was a decent distance between them, so Harry had to raise his voice a bit above normal to speak to him.

"It's a beautiful day. What about yourself?" he replied _Correct reply: check._

"I agree. Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes." Harry replied simply.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy with the odd-coloured hair continued. He had a bored, drawling voice with an aristocratic accent that Harry found intriguing. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." _His voice and mannerisms point to him being from a longstanding pureblooded family, and that hair could only belong to the Malfoys. Hmm. The wife of that family was a Black, which means that he probably has an astronomy-related name... Oh! Pansy mentioned him when she was teaching me about the constellations. The dragon– Uh... Draco!_

Harry nodded, considering his statement. "Alex, my twin," he indicated with a motion of his head, "was saying the same thing this morning. He's a quidditch nut as well."

"Have you got your own broom?" the Malfoy went on.

"No, but Alex does."

"Do you play quidditch at all?"

Harry made an apologetic expression. "No, but Al–"

"If I wanted to know about Alex, I would have talked to him." Draco interrupted, shaking his head softly. "Now, tell me about _yourself_, and not your sibling. What house do you think you'll be in?"

Harry blinked. This was new. Most people only bothered to strike up conversation with him in order to become nearer to Alex. "I'm not quite sure. I read a lot, so my best guess at the moment is Ravenclaw. Most of my family were in Gryffindor, but I'm not as foolhardy as they are."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they," Harry's conversation partner continued with a warm laugh, "but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been."

Inspired by what Draco had said before, Harry asked "But what house do _you_ want to be in?"

Draco stopped, clearly having not anticipated the question. "I'm not sure, actually." he responded after a length of time. "But, imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. It might be a bit impolite of me to say this, but I think it's quite a feat to remain cheerful and welcoming all the time, especially to people who offend you and discriminate against you as a result of your house; it's probably a great deal more difficult than being cunning, brave, or smart."

The boy tilted his head, his expression pensive and a tad embarrassed to be called out by Harry. Then, he nodded. "No, it's not rude of you to say that; I suppose you could be right." his eyes looked around the room and alighted upon Eris, asleep on the back of a cushioned chair. "Is that your familiar?"

Harry looked over at Eris as well. "I'm not sure, actually. I only met her today."

Draco made a hum of acknowledgement.

"That's you done, my dear." Madame Malkin said fixing one last pin into place, and Harry delicately stepped down from the footstool.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you at King's Cross then?" the green-eyed child trailed off hopefully, rousing a sleepy Eris and slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder.

The boy nodded, still being pinned for his robes. "I trust we will." he assured, "I'm Draco Malfoy, and you are?"

Harry smiled. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

There was flicker of something Harry couldn't name visible in the other boy's eyes as Draco returned Harry's hesitant smile with a genuine, open one of his own. "See you at Hogwarts, Harry."

"See you, Draco."

The twins had gotten the rest of their uniforms at Madame Malkin's as well, and it was six thirty when the Potters made their way back to the flooing area with many people along the cobbled street of Diagon Alley doing double takes to stare at Eris, sleeping on Harry's shoulders. Harry wore a smug grin and walked with purposeful steps, his back straight and his posture proud. The Potters paid 12 sickles to the bored witch managing the stall for four pinches of floo powder and the family tumbled back home in a flurry of emerald flames.

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**A/N:** Harry's finally met Draco! Whew, this chapter was insanely long and took ages to write (It's close to 7500 words, less than 1k under the story's total before this was uploaded.) Consider this my apology for not being able to upload for close to two weeks due to that camp that didn't allow me to sneak in my iPad. (Yeah, I write my fics on my iPad. Autocorrect's both a prat and a saviour.)

I was about to name Eris "Nyx", after the Greek goddess/personification of darkness, but then I realised that I couldn't get the nice sssss at the end of her name, even though it ends on the same sound, so I scrapped that idea. (I'm a sucker for Greek mythology, what can I say?)

In additional news, we passed 20 followers and 10 favourites! I'm really happy that so many people are interested in this fanfiction– thank you for sticking with this story! ( ^o^)

_The questions have been removed due to them either having been answered or due to them being redundant as they were relating to the next chapter which has been posted already._

Thank you to the brilliant reviewers who suggested Zacharias Smith, the Great Grey owl, and the Black Mamba, as well as those who helped clarify my twin problem and just generally tried to aid me with the fic! It really makes me feel warm and fuzzy (like Harry when he read Pansy's card!) when these things happen. ( uwu)

Please please please tell me if I made any errors anywhere! I'm constantly going back to change them if I see any, and I do try my best to proofread, but I'm not perfect. ( ;_;)


	5. Chapter 4: Platform 9 and Three–Quarters

Chapter 4

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Ruffling her feathers importantly, the snowy owl looked very regal in her silver cage. Harry had spent a good ten minutes fussing over Hedwig, which was what he decided to call his owl, before they left for the station, making sure that she had water, enough food and that her cage was so clean it practically gleamed. (In fact, Harry was pretty sure it came with a charm for that, though he had no idea how to activate it.) He'd double and triple checked trunk and his school supplies list, just in case he forgot something vitally important like workbooks or underwear, and then carefully stowed his wand away in his new holster that he clipped onto his belt. It glowed a light blue for a few seconds to show that the sticking charms, which prevented it from falling off on its own, were activated. The holster felt a little awkward at first, but walking a few circles around his bedroom soon rectified that.

Although snakes weren't on the allowed list of pets, Harry couldn't find it in himself to leave Eris at home, so he'd shrunk all of his snake-related paraphernalia down to fingernail-sized objects and placed them in a pouch. Eris was asked to wrap herself in as small of a bundle as she could so Harry could carefully place her and the pouch in his messenger bag, along with the set of robes that he'd dress himself in once the train neared Hogwarts.

Alex had chattered loudly and excitedly about what he wanted to do at Hogwarts throughout breakfast. He'd wanted to join the quidditch team, become a prefect in later years, and maybe join the chess club or gobstones club- even though he was only mediocre at the last two. Harry had wanted to form a study group with the Ravenclaws, possibly dragging Alex along for some of their meetings so his twin's grades wouldn't suffer as a result of him playing quidditch. In addition to that, having intelligent friends would become very important when the time to write their OWLs and NEWTs came, Harry thought. The green eyed child considered joining a potion's club, the textbook certainly seemed interesting enough, or maybe a transfiguration club, he wasn't too sure.

After breakfast had been eaten, Harry shuffled upstairs in slippers and silk pajamas, intent on getting changed. Though, Alex still barged into his room nevertheless. The younger twin insisted on dressing his older brother. Harry smiled wryly as Alex dug through his wardrobe for an "acceptable" outfit, tutting about ill fitting clothing and terrible colour choices.

At ten twenty, James and Lily had apparated the twins to an empty alleyway close to King's Cross station, luggage, owls and all. Alex looked a bit grey after they got there; Harry didn't blame him– feeling like being squeezed through a tube on a full stomach could do that to you. The family made the short journey to the actual train station on foot– it was just around the corner– the adults pulling the trunks behind them, aided by a temporary featherweight charm, and the children carrying their owls and one snake, but nobody had to know about the latter.

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The train station was crowded and noisy. For the first time in Harry's life, he didn't think he minded. Both he and Alex had their own carts with their own trunk and owl that they proudly pushed in front of them. Harry had carefully placed his messenger bag on top of his trunk, securing it with its strap so that there was no chance of it falling off and Eris being accidentally bumped by anything. He'd wanted to use a sticking charm, since he'd spent the last month actually _practicing_ the charms and spells instead of just reading about them, but his parents didn't know about that, so he decided against it. The family made their way towards platforms 9 and 10 with only a few odd looks from passing muggles at their odd pets. The older twin contented himself with imagining their expressions if they were to see Eris riding on his shoulders, her favourite spot, and nearly burst out laughing.

"Alright," Lily said, stopping in front of the barrier, "one at a time now." gesturing to her husband and youngest son, she continued, "James, go with Alex first, I'll follow behind with Harry."

James bent down a bit and addressed the twins, "Now, all you need is to run or walk at that," he gestured to the barrier separating platforms 9 and 10, "and you can't hesitate, got it?"

Harry and Alex both nodded. Harry remembered reading an account in _Hogwarts, a History_ of a child who'd gotten stuck there because he'd turned back midway to talk to his sister. The Obliviators had been forced to block off both platforms for a few hours while they did damage control, if he remembered properly. At the time, the passage from the book had seemed amusing and he'd snorted whole reading it, but the prospect of possibly being trapped in what looked like a solid brick wall was daunting when he was actually facing said wall.

He briefly considered mentioning the anecdote, but Alex was looking a bit pale. indeed, the wall _was_ **very** solid-looking. So, instead, he tapped his twin's arm and said in as convincing of a voice as he could, "Don't worry, Lex. It's magic, remember?"

Alex sent him a grateful smile and gripped the handle of his trolley. Then, on some unsaid signal, the father son duo broke into a run towards the barrier. Harry watched as they disappeared, engulfed by the bricks, and turned to his mother.

"Can we _walk_ through it?" he inquired, "My cart's a bit heavy and I can't stop it that quickly. I don't want to run over someone on the other side." _And, I also don't want Eris to accidentally fall off and get run over._

The corners of Lily's mouth lifted into a soft smile. "Of course we can, Harry."

Harry righted his cart and linked his arm through his mother's. Together, they strolled through the barrier with only a slight flinch, a little less than a twitch, from Harry as he passed through.

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The first thing Harry saw when he emerged was the shining red of the Hogwarts Express. All of his anxiety and nervousness disappeared almost instantly. He'd read about it, of course, and heard it mentioned numerous times in stories that his parents would tell him and Alex, but actually _seeing_ the scarlet steam engine puffing out smoke took his breath away.

The platform was absolutely filled with people. Children darted through the crowd like little fishes through water, searching for available seats, friends, or lost pets. A family with shockingly red hair was standing by the train. Harry noted that they, among the large amount of children they had, had two identical teenage boys among them who looked like they were going to Hogwarts too. There was a boy with a spider surrounded by a small crowd who shrieked and made general fearful noises when it moved around; Harry thought it was cool, though he didn't really see the appeal of a spider. Snakes were much better. Since the boy was probably going to Hogwarts as well, the green-eyed twin was glad that he wouldn't be the only person with a _technically_ prohibited pet.

The whole platform had an aura of magic, and the very air itself seemed to shimmer with it. It was beautiful.

James and Alex were standing next to where they emerged, though Alex was looking at the boy with the spider rather than the barrier. They'd left quite a bit of space between them and the entrance, and had evidently expected mother and son to be slowing down from a sprint rather than calmly walking. Giving a half-smile at Harry's pokerface, James tapped Alex's arm and motioned towards Lily and Harry. With a squeak from the trolley wheel, the youngest child joined them.

"I can see an empty compartment near the end." the younger twin said.

"Good work, Alex!" Lily praised, "Why don't you two get settled in, and we'll follow behind?"

The twins nodded eagerly and made their way as fast as two children with overlarge trolleys pushing their way through a crowd could, towards the end of the train. Lily chuckled at their excitement and slowly started pushing through the mass of students and relatives alike to reunite with them.

James, walking behind Alex, moved to slip his arm around his wife. She looked up at him and leaned into his embrace.

"We should have brought a muggle camera." Lily murmured, watching Harry struggle to help to Alex get his trunk onto the chosen compartment. It was quite hard work, there were steps and she knew for a fact that the trunk was fairly heavy, even for her. The twins seemed to have quite a lot of trouble even lifting the heavy object. Lily lifted a hand to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and continued, "Harry's expression when he saw the train was priceless."

"I thought Alex was going to be a lot more afraid of running through than he actually was." the stag animagus admitted, "For a first timer, he did pretty well."

"Not as well as Harry." Lily teasingly retorted, obviously proud that the child she escorted did the best, as if she herself had something to do with it.

Harry, at that point, seemed to have asked Alex to cease helping with the trunk and now was trying to lift it on his own. His cheeks had turned a slight pink with exertion– Lily privately thought it was adorable.

"To compare any first year's run to Harry's entrance would be unfair to them." James laughed back, "Harry did magnificently– perhaps he'll be a Gryffindor, with that bravery" he joked.

The redhead laughed too, and the parents both pushed a bit more towards where Harry had finally managed to shove Alex's trunk onto the train and was now struggling with his own. Wide-eyed, Lily watched as Harry, obviously exasperated, pulled his wand out of his holster and pointed it at his luggage.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Her oldest son's voice seemed to ring above the chatter of the train station, and the parents stopped, shocked, half expecting the trunk to explode or implode or grow fangs and start running or combust or– or vanish or... or **anything!** **Anything** other than calmly rising into the air where Harry, with a flick of his wand, directed it over to the corner of the compartment with the rest of their belongings.

Lifting his head, the oldest twin spotted his parents and waved. The spell was broken, and Lily scrambled to make it through the crowd and towards her children.

"What were you thinking?!" she cried, crouching down and clutching Harry's shoulders, visually assessing him for any freak injuries that she might have missed, "You could have hurt both yourself and your brother!"

Harry looked a bit bewildered at her reaction. "Mum, I'm perfectly alright." he protested, stepping back and out of her hold, "I practiced the spell, I'll have you know. There's no way I could have messed it up."

"You practiced the spell?" Lily repeated incredulously. She could feel a headache coming along. "Harry, you could have sent yourself to St Mungo's with life-threatening injuries! What were you thinking?!"

"Nothing even happened." said child mumbled, "I'm perfectly alright, and the house hasn't had any holes blown into it."

Lily looked like she wanted to say more but the train whistle sounded, indicating that the train was about to leave.

"He's sort of right, you know." James chuckled, "He did it properly and everything, and nothing went wrong. Maybe we actually have a little Ravenclaw in the family."

Lily sighed heavily and stood up. Pointing her index finger at her husband, she took a deep breath and hissed "We are not finished with this James Caelum Potter."

Harry laughed and Alex snorted. Lily gave each of them a kiss on the forehead while James ruffled their hair fondly. The family shared one last hug together before the twins were being shooed onto the train by the grudgingly smiling redhead.

"Goodbye!" Harry yelled, leaning out of the window as the train started to move. Behind him, Lily could see Alex clambering on the seats to do the same. She waved furiously back.

Having finally managed to mimic his brother, Alex was leaning comically out of the window in a very uncomfortable looking position, his shoulders wedged diagonally. He, however, didn't seem to notice and was waving both his arms enthusiastically. "We'll write lots!" he yelled

Their voices were becoming fainter and fainter as the train gathered speed; James and Lily looked fondly at it, still waving. Their children were growing up and leaving the home like baby birds who had discovered, one day, that they had wings and then took flight to discover a whole new world on their own. Their own little birds, leaving the nest. Before they stepped onto Platform nine and three-quarters, they'd never fully realised that their now not-so-little babies were going to be leaving them to go and live their schooling life on their own. The knowledge of that didn't fully hit the parents until they watched the train move further and further away. Then, suddenly turning a corner, it was gone. Lily started dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

James wrapped his arm around his wife and kissed her hair. "We're going to have to let them go sometime, y'know?"

"I know," she sniffed, "but it just feels too soon. Anytime would feel too soon." pausing to blow her nose, she continued, "They're only 11 and we're not going to see them again until Christmas; it just feels so far away."

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**A/N:** Sorry for the short chapter! It just felt like the best place to end it– the actual train trip's the next chapter! I have most of it written out already, actually. ( uwu)

Did you like my middle name for James? Since, in this story, he was the son of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black, I figured he probably would have a constellation name, as per Black customs.

_The questions have been removed due to them either having been answered or due to them being redundant as they were relating to the next chapter which has been posted already._

Now would also be a good time to list off any friendships you'd like to see, as well as any pairings for later on so I can plan and write accordingly. (^.^)

I'm going to dismiss any complaints about Harry not being able to cast the Wingardium Leviosa charm successfully by reminding those that are upset about it that Hermione managed to lift a feather on her first day, not too far into the lesson. A full month of practicing, I think, should be enough for our smart little sweetums to lift a trunk, albeit a heavy one.


	6. Chapter 5: The Hogwarts Express

Chapter 5

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The twins kept waving until they couldn't see their parents anymore. It was a bittersweet moment, Harry realised, as he swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. Alex's eyes were glimmering with a layer of unshed tears. The older sibling turned to his twin and watched as Alex blinked and two drops of liquid spilled over and created two thin trails down his cheeks. Wordlessly, the Harry gently encircled his brother with his arms and they held each other for a few minutes until Alex sniffed and pulled away.

"I-I won't get to see them until C-Christmas." the younger twin snuffled, rubbing at his eyes aggressively.

Harry gently pushed Alex's hand away from his sensitive appendages and retrieved his own handkerchief from his messenger bag. Dabbing at his brother's brown eyes, Harry shifted so that he could more comfortably face Alex.

"Christmas will be here before you know it, I promise. It's not even that long. Plus, you know that your owl can carry letters to and from home whenever you want." Harry insisted.

Alex sniffed again and suddenly threw his arms around Harry, pulling his brother close. The brown-eyed sibling buried his face into Harry's neck and dampened the fabric of the elder twin's shirt with even more tears. Harry was a bit startled by the abrupt action, but he shifted his hand so that he could smooth his younger twin's hair in what he hoped was a calming movement. Unsure of what to do, the older boy kept up the repetitive motion until Alex's shoulders had stopped shaking and his sibling had heaved a last shuddering sigh.

Upon feeling Alex lift his head from Harry's shoulder, the green-eyed twin stopped his placating motions and instead concentrated on wiping the tears from his sibling's face. Alex's nose was red, as were his damp cheeks and eyes. He looked like a lost child, Harry realised, and that made a strong sense of protectiveness rise up in the elder sibling's chest.

A sudden idea made itself known to Harry, and he leant over to grab his bag, retrieving the bar of Honeyduke's Best Chocolate that he'd stashed in there that morning. He'd been saving it for a snack on the train, but Alex seemed to need it more right at that moment than he himself would later on.

The wrapper crinkled as he removed the paper wrapped around the sugary concoction and the chocolate snapped unevenly in two with only a slight bit of pressure. After a bit of silent deliberation, Harry handed the larger piece to Alex before it would begin to melt in his hand– his twin had an incredible sweet tooth and sugar always managed to make him feel happier. Lily always kept a bit of it in the house to "heal" Alex's bruises and scratches from impromptu quidditch games.

Alex gave Harry a wobbly smile, his lower lip still trembling slightly. Taking the piece of chocolate with a grateful nod of his head, the younger twin stuck one end in his mouth and chewed at it. Harry took the remaining piece and set it down on the golden paper that it came wrapped in, breaking off a small triangle for himself and allowing it to slowly melt in his mouth. The chocolate had just the right degree of sweetness- Harry disliked extremely sugary foods- and he closed his eyes to savour the creamy taste of the snack.

When he opened them, several minutes later, Harry noticed that Alex had already scarfed down his portion of the chocolate and was eying Harry's remaining piece with a forlorn expression. Harry nudged the chocolate towards his twin with an eye roll. _The things I do for you, Lex._

The brothers continued sitting for a bit more; Harry absentmindedly watching houses streak past the window and Alex chewing on the chocolate thoughtfully, his nose and cheeks slowly returning to their normal tanned tones.

Then, the compartment door slid open and a young redheaded boy strode in. Upon seeing the twins, he straightened up, evidently trying to look more important than he actually was. Harry vaguely remembered seeing him as a part of the large ginger family on Platform 9 3/4, boarding the Hogwarts Express.

"Alex Potter?" the boy said, looking around the room, his gaze eventually settling on the twins.

Alex nodded with a slightly confused expression.

"Oh good, I was just looking for you. My name's Ron, Ronald Weasley. A bunch of us are sitting a few compartments down; Lee Jordan's got a tarantula. Want to join us?"

Harry frowned. People would often seek out his brother in an attempt to have some of the fame that The Boy Who Lived possessed rub off on them, but rarely did they do it so obviously. _He didn't observe the old traditions either. Probably a half-blood or someone from a more plebeian pureblood family then._ Harry sighed inwardly when Alex turned towards him with a hopeful look. _Why can"t you associate with better people, Lex?_

Nevertheless, he nodded, giving his assent. "Do you want my help with moving your trunk to the new compartment?"

Alex shook his head, standing up. "I'll come back for it if we have to move it to the school ourselves, don't worry."

The ginger boy stood to one side of the door to accompany the younger twin as he passed through it, acting for all the world as if Harry didn't exist.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

By Harry's estimates, around a quarter of an hour had passed before anything else remotely interesting happened. In that time, he'd retrieved Eris from his bag, with a short apology for making her stay there for so long, and propped _New Theory of Numerology_ on his lap, his eyes intently darting over the pages as he chewed slowly on a cauldron cake that he'd forgotten that he had packed. Eris, who had her head rested on his shoulder, raised her head and alerted him to the new company.

_"There'ss ssssomeone lingering outsssside."_ she commented with a small inclination of her tail.

Harry raised his head, flicking his eyes towards the door the handle. _"Are you ssssure?"_

_"I can sssmell them. It'sss that boy from the clothing ssstore."_

Harry gave Eris a grateful smile and raised his voice to where he was sure said boy could hear, even through a door. "Could Draco Malfoy be kind enough to grace us with his presence, especially since he'd been deliberating for a while as to whether he should come in?"

The compartment door opened as if on cue and the person who peered in had the decency to looked abashed. "Hello, Harry. How are you today and how did you know it was me?" Draco inquired, his cheeks tinged with a dusty pink. _He's still using the traditional greeting. Evidently, he's trying to impress me, though I cannot fathom why, given that he's aware I'm not Alex._

"Hi there, Draco. I'm doing well, and you? As to how I knew it was you out there... I suppose I'm just that intuitive." It wouldn't be prudent for Draco to know too much about him, as they'd only met once before, and especially since the ability to speak to snakes was viewed as largely undesirable in the wizarding word.

Draco looked like he wanted to inquire further since he definitely didn't believe the lie for one second but, strangely enough, he didn't. "I'm doing fine. Though, I suppose I'll have to be extra careful when you have her around, huh? Is anyone sitting with you?" Draco commented, indicating the seat that Harry's twin was to occupy.

"Alex went off with a ginger-haired boy around our age a bit after we left the train station and hasn't come back yet, so I suppose that seat's vacant at the moment."

"Good. I came looking for you; they're saying all down the train that Alex Potter's going to Hogwarts this year." Draco sat down opposite Harry.

Now, the green-eyed boy was confused. Since 'they were saying' that _Alex_ was going to Hogwarts, why did Draco try to find _Harry_? Unlike with Alex, becoming the friend of Harry Potter didn't really do anything to elevate the status of anyone. Perhaps, though, this new boy with pale skin and silvery grey eyes was trying to gain the trust of Harry in order to gain Alex's acceptance. It was certainly possible; many had attempted to do so in the past.

"You do realise that Alex will probably not come back to this compartment this trip, right?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Yes." Draco replied.

_"Have you consssidored that he might jussst desssire company?"_ Eris chimed in softly from her spot coiled around Harry's shoulders.

_"Ssseeing as he isss from an elite pureblooded family, there isssn't much of a chance that he would sssseek me of all people out for it, ssssince he mosssst likely knowss many otherss more interesssting than me here."_ Harry hissed back, forgetting for a second that Draco was in the compartment with him.

There was a small gasp from across Harry. _Oh no_. Watching the exchange between boy and snake, the blond looked scandalised. After a few moments of opening and closing his mouth, Draco swallowed hard."You're a _parselmouth_?!" he exclaimed in a hushed voice.

_Oh_. Harry decided against saying anything extra and simply nodded, swallowing hard. He'd done research on the "serpent tongue", as Eris liked to call it, and had found out that the speakers of said language were called parselmouths; the language itself was called parseltongue. Eris had guessed that the ability was a dormant gene in the Potter/Black line that somehow manifested itself in him. That made sense, considering both lines were extremely old and the family trees of either were as confusing as they were vast.

Most of the books Harry had read said that most dark wizards spoke the language, citing Herpo the Foul and Voldemort as examples. The green-eyed boy sighed mournfully and hid his eyes behind his long fringe. The wizarding world seemed to fear those with this power in the same way that people throughout history had feared things that they couldn't comprehend. Since Draco knew about his abilities now, it was fairly likely that he would refuse or at the very least limit his contact with the older twin, just because of existing prejudices and fears that he host likely grew up with. _At least I'll still have Pansy, I hope, provided she'll accept me._

The compartment was silent save for the ongoing sound of the moving train. Several long moments passed before Draco exhaled a tiny breath. Harry would have missed such a small gesture normally, but he was on edge with the realisation that the beginnings of a friendship was going to soon end. There was an empty feeling in his chest as Draco opened his mouth to speak. _So, this is it, huh._ Harry drooped a little at the thought.

Then, Draco mumbled something that Harry didn't make out, even with his anticipation-enhanced hearing.

"Um. Sorry, could you please repeat that?" Harry's voice was soft, almost timid..

"Is that how you knew I was outside the door? Eris told you?" Draco repeated.

Harry nodded, his head bowed. Several agonising seconds passed.

"Could... Could you teach me how to speak it? Speak parseltongue?"

Now, Harry was the one who was shocked. Had he heard right?

"Just to clarify, you want _me_ to teach you how to speak a language which most of the wizarding world views as taboo?" Harry breathed incredulously, hardly daring to believe what he'd heard.

The blond nodded. "But, only if you agree, of course." he added somewhat hastily.

Draco was an enigma. For one, he chose to remain in Harry's company even when it didn't seem to benefit him in any way, and he still continued speaking to Harry after finding out that the green-eyed child was a parselmouth. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were known for their love of power and relationships with very important people in the wizarding world. He could have left the compartment without a backwards glance both because Alex wasn't there and because Harry was a parselmouth, yet he chose to stay with the green-eyed boy, the child that most of the wizarding world didn't even know about because he wasn't considered to be that special or extraordinary. For the first time in Harry's short existence, he had no understanding of another person's actions; it made him feel out of his depth. Though, strangely, it wasn't altogether too unpleasant.

Harry nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll do it. Though, I expect something in return."

Draco smirked and chuckled warmly. The sound of it broke through and changed the previously tense atmosphere and the dark-haired child found himself softly smiling as well.

"Slytherin."

Harry was a bit confused. _Where had that come from?_ "Excuse me?"

"You're going to be a Slytherin. I guarantee it."

Harry shook his head in amused disbelief. "_'Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?'_"

Recognising the sentence, Draco sent Harry a warm, open smile. "I didn't think you would consider me important enough to quote."

Harry grinned back. "To be honest, neither did I. We learn something new every day, huh?" he joked, leaning forward to poke Draco gently with his elbow.

"Oi!" the blond laughed, twisting out of the way. Harry giggled. Draco tried to glare at the green-eyed child but it didn't really work. Not surprisingly, considering that both the children in the compartment had started snickering. Eris, looking upon the scene, did the snake's equivalent of an eye roll with an obviously fake disdainful look and that just made Harry laugh harder. Harry's giggles made Draco laugh as well and, before long, both boys were out of breath, their chests heaving with laughter; the fuel for their amusement being each other.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The scene outside the window had changed from busy streets and houses to fields and farm animals. They were speeding through the countryside. Harry had taught Draco some words in parseltongue and, although the blond had managed to pronounce a few simple phrases mostly correctly, he still butchered Eris' name. At noontime exactly, Pansy peeked in. Upon seeing Harry and Draco, she looked relieved and she opened the door a bit wider, striding into the small compartment.

"Why did you have to pick this one out of all of them? I had to walk the whole length of the train just to find you." Pansy demanded, her hands on her hips. She mock-glared at Harry.

"It's nice to see you too, Pans." Draco responded dryly.

"All the other compartments were taken." Harry laughed, shaking his head, "I was lucky to even find this one."

Pansy sighed dramatically, looking at Harry. "Push over now, I need a place to sit. I didn't come all the way here to go back, you know."

The dark-haired child obediently stood up and went to sit on the opposite seat, beside Draco who scooted over enough for them to both be comfortable. Pansy took the now vacant set of seats where Harry used to be, kicking off her shoes haphazardly and lounging on the red cushioned seats sideways, looking content.

Eris hissed curiously at Pansy, raising her head slightly in the pale girl's direction. Harry, upon realising that the two had never met, deliberated on whether or not to introduce the brunette to Eris. Introducing _Eris_ to _Pansy_ would be easy- English would do the trick. Though, to do it the other way around, Harry would need to use parseltongue. Perhaps, Pansy would be like Draco and accept this previously unknown ability of Harry's. Or, maybe she would be as disgusted and afraid just like the books said that most people would. Harry bowed his head, staring at the floor.

They'd exchanged letters since his birthday, Harry and Pansy, starting when Harry had sent her a thank you message for the beautiful telescope. He'd initially spoken to her about Mopsy and Mercury as well as her own pet, a jewelled peacock named Esmeralda. They'd progressed to chats about hobbies, family, philosophical debates about the merits of certain spells verses others, and transfiguration theories, carried speedily by owls who were probably tired of going back and forth between the two estates. It was... comfortable to be able to do that with someone. Now, it looked like Harry might have lost that privilege with Pansy.

Draco, sensing Harry's dilemma, nudged him in the side. When Harry looked over, he mouthed "It's alright." Harry sent him a weak smile and nodded back.

Harry looked up tentatively at his brown-haired friend, inhaling a deep breath. "Pansy, this is Eris, my snake. "_Erissss, thiss iss Panssssy, my... acquaintance" _Harry wouldn't call her a friend. Being hurt by friends caused a great deal more pain than being hurt by an acquaintance did.

Pansy's eyes had widened slightly when he switched languages, but her posture remained the same. She tilted her head to the side, looking critically at Harry and at Eris, perched on his shoulder and nodded.

"It's good to meet you, Eris." she said cautiously.

Eris hissed a greeting in response which Harry translated as best as he could, considering the differences between parseltongue and English. Pansy smiled at the black mamba who inclined her head in return.

"And, Harry," she turned to the dark-haired child in question, "why didn't you think to tell me about your ability to converse with snakes?"

_Because we were discussing the merits of _bombarda_ verses _reducto_ and I was winning._

Harry shrugged, feigning innocence. "I actually didn't know about it until about last month, when I met Eris." Well, that part was true. He'd only be guilty of omission and not of a full-out lie.

Pansy nodded. Oddly, she seemed to actually be alright with the green-eyed child's newfound language skills. That was the second time he was surprised today, and Harry was perfectly alright with that, so long as he could be accepted after a month of being terrified of discrimination due to this ability.

_"Hello, Pansssy, I've heard lotsss about you."_ Eris hissed happily. Harry had been guilty of excitedly telling Eris about his lettered conversations with Pansy, simply because he was so happy to finally have an acquaintance that seemed to be interested in him for reasons other than him being the sibling of Alex Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Perhaps, a bit too excited about finally having the possibility of a genuine friend– he really shouldn't have told his snake so much.

"What did Eris say?" Pansy asked, sleepily opening one eye; she'd reclined back onto the cushioned seats and closed her eyes, the very picture of relaxation.

"She said that she was pleased to meet you." Harry fibbed, embarrassed. It wouldn't do for someone whom he wanted to become friends with to know that he was so excited over what seemed like a trivial thing. It was almost blackmail-worthy and most certainly material for friendly ribbing. Harry was naturally a very private person, and getting to know one person was rare for him, much less two in such a short space of time.

Though, perhaps, this might change once he got to Hogwarts. The twins' tutors had always commented on Harry's intelligence– perhaps he could offer to tutor some students once classes started and get to know more people that way. Or, maybe he could create potions to aid older students with studying; they'd probably be wary of accepting things

"Well, it's nice to meet you too, Eris. Harry told me about you in our letters but it's nice to finally be able to see you in person." Pansy smiled, her voice breaking Harry away from his thoughts.

_"What did ssshe sssay?"_ Eris inquired.

_"Sshe ssaid that it was good to meet you after I had told her sso much about you."_ Harry translated. "_And, on that note, you really sshould ssstop sssaying sssuch revealing things about me. Sshe'sss probably going to be a Ssslytherin and they're known to pick up on the implicationss of sssimple comments like that."_

_"But sshe cannot understand my ssspeech."_

_"Hush, ssshe can read my reactionsss."_

Eris shook her head... chuckling? Could snakes even laugh? At any rate, this black mamba seemed to have accomplished it._ "Whatever you sssay, little one."_

Harry sighed.

There was a loud clattering sound from outside the compartment which made the three children (and one snake) look up towards the entrance. A cheerfully smiling women slid back their door. "Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked.

Harry had no idea how she stayed so happy, considering how she must have had to stop and say that to the occupants of every single compartment. Draco had started rummaging around in his pockets and Pansy pulled out a beaded purse, evidently prepared for the current scenario. Harry himself was feeling a bit peckish– Lily had forgotten to pack a lunch for him and he hadn't thought to bring any more snacks. Standing up, Harry unzipped an organisational compartment in his messenger bag and retrieved his pouch of money. Both he and Alex had a monthly allowance. While the younger brother generally spent it within the first week on snacks and frivolous items, Harry liked to save his. Possibly, once he got older, he would find something he truly wanted and he'd have enough money to buy it. However, before that day came, there was a problem that Harry had to address first: his grumbling stomach.

For simple chivalry's sake, both Draco and Harry allowed Pansy to make her purchases first. She'd rolled her eyes and muttered something about "boys being boys" when both the blond child and the green-eyed boy stood back and gestured for her to choose first from the trolley, but her voice had been light with a hint of thinly-veiled amusement. Harry picked next, opting for a few pumpkin pasties and a large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Draco got a stack of chocolate frogs and offered to pay for Harry's purchases, tossing one of his confectionary amphibians towards Pansy in a silent apology for not including her in the offer. Harry declined Draco's suggestion, he had more than enough money of his own, but a warm sunny feeling spread through him and it stayed in his chest for several hours afterwards.

The children talked for a bit more, sharing foodstuffs and stories. They'd ended up playing a version of Dare with Harry's Every Flavor Beans and Harry had been dared to eat a grey-coloured bean that turned out to be chili-flavoured, causing him to stick his tongue out in a rather comical manner, trying to cool it down, while searching frantically for water. Now, they were devouring Draco's pile of chocolate frogs, having finished Pansy's cauldron cakes previously.

"I've got Helga Hufflepuff again. Hey, Draco, swap you for Uric the Oddball?" Harry laughed, brandishing the card in question.

"Huh! As if! Helga's far too common for a trade like that. I'd swap you Uric for your Salazar though, or Merlin." Draco scoffed haughtily, laughing when Pansy kicked him gently with her socked foot.

Harry hummed as he unwrapped another chocolate frog and skimmed the card lightly, reading:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.

_Alchemy sounds interesting. _Harry considored doing some more research on it once he arrived at Hogwarts; he'd heard many stories about the magnificent library that the school had within it.

Harry pushed the newest card towards the blond-haired boy. "Swap you Dumbledore _and_ Hufflepuff for Uric?" he offered with a smirk.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Perhaps..." he drawled, though the corners of his lips raised in a smile. Taking the two proffered cards, the blond placed the aforementioned card into Harry's opened hand, acting like it caused him great pain to part with it. Harry lightly elbowed him in retaliation.

Outside the window, the countryside turned from neat fields and white picket fences, evenly spaced, to shadowy woods and rambling footpaths. Dark hills with wild animals prancing about them and a merrily flowing river that twisted and twined around a grove of trees passed by in a streak of greens, browns, and blues.

There was a knock on the compartment door; a round-faced boy shuffled in looking like he was about to burst into tears. Seeing Eris on Harry's shoulders, he froze.

"Sorry," the child croaked, looking like he was going to turn tail and run back into the corridor any second, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

Eris hissed happily, recognising the word "toad". She wanted a snack and Harry had promised her that there were plenty of small creatures that she could hunt in the Forbidden Forest, once they reached Hogwarts. Though, if she could find the creature before the boy did...

Harry and Draco shook their heads. Apart from the chocolate frogs that they'd been in the middle of devouring, no other amphibians had set foot within their compartment. Pansy, having dozed off before they had started swapping cards, didn't do anything beyond shifting to get into a more comfortable position.

"I've lost him!" the boy sniffled, seeming to forget the snake in his outburst, "He keeps getting away from me!"

"Well, I'm sure you'll find him." Harry sympathised.

"Yeah. Well, if you see him..." the boy trailed off hopefully.

"We'll tell you." Draco finished.

The child left with a soft _click_ as the compartment door slid shut.

"Poor boy. A _toad_ of all creatures. Really, what were his parents thinking?" Draco tutted from his position beside Harry. The dark-haired child shrugged, turning back to his stack of chocolate frog cards.

The boys finished off the stack of chocolate frogs and began discussing Hogwarts. Harry was particularly excited about learning potions and he found that Draco loved that subject as well. Harry took a bite out of the last of the pumpkin pasties and stood up to brush crumbs off of his lap. Though, once he sat back down, his wand holster dug into his hip so the green-eyed child removed it, spinning his wand around in his hand.

"I saw you use underaged magic on the platform." Draco commented.

Harry froze. Chancing a look sideways, he realised that Draco was simply making conversation and relaxed again.

"I practiced some spells at home after I got my wand." Harry offered. "The Ministry can detect when magic is performed around an underaged witch or wizard; however, they cannot tell who casted it."

Draco nodded. "My parents told me about it; I worked my way through the first few chapters of the textbook during the summer."

_I finished half the book, and then some. _Harry didn't say anything relating to his obsession with learning; it would be impolite to seem like he was trying constantly to better Draco this early in their tentative friendship. So, instead, he looked down at his wand and traced the designs etched on the grip with his fingernail. A few seconds of silence passed.

"Want to play a question game?" Draco suggested, "I'll ask you a question, you'll respond, and you'll get to ask me a question in return."

Harry nodded.

"Favourite colour?" Draco began.

"Mint green. Favourite sweet?" Harry replied

"Chocoballs. Favourite food?"

"It's a tie between chicken pot pie and pancakes with golden syrup." Harry paused to think of a question, drumming his fingers on his lap."Favourite type of spell?"

"I really like glamour charms and jinxes, though I'm not sure which is my favourite." Draco replied, "What's yours?"

"The exact same!" Harry laughed, "Though, I do like transfiguration in general too."

Draco smiled, and Harry noticed for the first time that when the blond was happy, his eyes would soften from their usual masked expression to a warm silvery grey. It was the sort of smile that compelled others to join in because, like a perfect diamond, it was brilliant in its rarity.

The compartment door slid open again; the chubby-cheeked boy, still missing a frog, had come back, this time with a girl that had atrociously frizzy hair. She was already in her Hogwarts robes.

_"Doessss anyone ssstill know to knock?"_ Eris sighed angrily.

Harry laughed and the newcomers looked at him oddly.

Then, the girl spoke, Harry noticed that she had rather large front teeth, like a rabbit. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." Then, spotting Eris, "Are you sure that you're allowed snakes at Hogwarts? It didn't say so in the list of things we had to bring."

"We've only _just_ told him that we haven't seen it." Harry replied, choosing to ignore her statement about Eris. Draco huffed angrily at her but shel didn't seem to notice.

"Are you doing magic?" the bushy-haired girl asked, looking at the wand in Harry's hand. "Could I see?"

"We weren't, not at the moment," Harry responded, "but I could a quick spell if you'd like." _To get you to leave us in peace._

"Well, go on then." the girl said, leaning against the doorframe.

Harry considered the incantations he knew. He had built up a decent amount of knowledge for someone his age on hexes and jinxes, but it wouldn't be prudent to demonstrate them on someone whose only offence was intruding on his conversation with Draco. His eyes fell on the chocolate frog wrappers, discarded in a pile on the floor of their compartment. _Hmm. This could work._ Draco, as if sensing Harry's thoughts, nudged Pansy awake to watch the show.

"_Wingardium Leviosa._" Harry said, and the paper packaging, bereft of both the frog and the card that came with it, obediently rose up into the air. The Summoning Charm, accio, was a bit too difficult for the eleven year old to master quite yet, so he had been using the Levitation Charm as a successful substitute. Harry moved the wrapper towards himself with a flick of his wrist. It landed perfectly in his lap, as expected. The round-faced boy clapped.

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, a bit annoyed that the boy would think he would simply be content with showing only that spell. _It_ _wasn't even the actual demonstration._

Picking the wrapper up daintily with his left index finger and thumb, Harry held it a bit farther from him, angling his body so that the spell wouldn't hit anyone or anything important. Pansy sat up and Draco leant forwards. Eris hissed happily from her perch on his shoulders; she'd seen this spell before and it was one of her favourites. The toadless boy looked nervous; his eyes kept darting towards Harry's snake.

_"Come on, little one. Ssshow them."_ Eris hissed impatiently. Harry held back his laugher this time.

"_Mutatio roza_" the dark-haired child said, pointing his wand towards the wrapper. A beam of cobalt light shot from the tip towards the gold and purple paper in his hand and enveloped it. As the onlookers watched, it fluidly changed shape and colour, slowly forming an emerald green coil. Then, the spiral unwound, thinning and lengthening, and small brown triangular protrusions appeared on the surface as it shifted into a straight stalk, growing like snowflakes rapidly falling through the air on a cold December night. A single leaf appeared, suspended for half a second in the air before it moved and joined with the rest of the creation. Petals, vibrantly electric blue, seemed to grow from nothing, rapidly increasing in size and spinning together larger and larger until they attached at the very tip of the previously coiled tendril, now a straight stalk. A soft blue light surrounded the finished product as it hovered in the air above Harry's hand.

With downward flick from his wand hand, the green-eyed boy coaxed the blue rose down onto his open palm where the light emanating from it dimmed gradually to nothing. Harry looked up and smirked at his silent audience. Draco was trying very hard not to look impressed and Pansy seemed to have attempted the same but failed, judging from her grin. Standing by the door, the round-faced boy from earlier seemed to have forgotten how his jaw worked, seeing as he was staring open-mouthed at the object in Harry's hand. Eris laughed at his expression and Harry had to fight to not do the same.

"Are you sure that's a first year spell?" the bushy-haired girl broke in with a slightly nasal voice, "I don't remember reading it in any of the textbooks for this year. I've tried a few simple spells of my own as well, just for practice. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard– I've learnt all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough– I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you all?" she said, extremely quickly in one exhale.

_Merlin, did the girl ever need to breathe?_

"Draco Malfoy." Harry's blond companion drawled from beside him.

"My name is Pansy Parkinson." said the fair-skinned girl sitting across from the boys.

"It's not a first year spell, I don't think. I found it in a spellbooks in the family library. I'm Harry Potter." the dark-haired child stated, having waited until his companions had finished introducing themselves.

"A relation of Alex Potter, the Boy Who Lived?" Hermione asked, and Harry felt a little spike of anger flare up in his chest at that statement.

"Yes," he replied tersely, "Alex is my twin."

"I know all about him, of course," the buck-toothed girl continued, completely oblivious Harry's reactions "I got a few extra books. for background reading, and he's in _Modern Magical History_, _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._"

"Is he now?" Harry gritted out through his teeth. He'd known about those books, of course, and a few others that this know-it-all had apparently not located yet. Alex was _his_ brother; it was _his_ job to keep track of these things, and this girl had the _gall_ to suggest she knew Alex better than he, Alex's twin brother, did.

"Goodness, didn't you know?" the girl continued. Harry's fingers twitched around his wand and he started considering another demonstration, but on a hex this time. "I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Harry glared at her back as she left with the other boy. Draco, Pansy, and Eris wisely chose to not say anything.

There was a sudden spike of pain in his left hand and Harry quickly looked down at it. He was tightly squeezing the stem of the rose, causing the thorns on it to dig into his skin. A couple of them had punctured his palm, causing a scattering of tiny scarlet bead of bloods to well up. Harry brushed them away with one of the clean serviettes that the trolley lady had given to them earlier, leaving a few bright red smears across his palm's surface.

Looking at the mess on his left hand, Harry sighed and retrieved a muggle disinfectant wipe from his bag, using that to remove all the remaining blood that the serviettes missed. Throwing the used serviette and wipe onto the pile of wrappers and opened packaging, Harry realised that he had no actual use for the transfigured blue rose. He sighed, letting his eyes roam around the compartment until they rested on the girl sitting across from him. _Perhaps..._

"Pansy," Harry said picking up the rose and gesturing to it, "would you like to have this?"

"Sure." Pansy replied, her voice cautious.

Harry sighed. He'd let his emotions get away from him again. "I'm sorry I'm being such a prat." he started apologetically. "Here," taking out his wand, Harry pointed it at the transfigured rose again, "_diffindo_." A white light shot out of the wand's tip and cut through a few of the thorns on the stalk, causing them to scatter onto his lap. Harry repeated the spell another two times, until the stalk was completely free of the spiky appendages. "It won't prick you now." Harry added tentatively, leaning forward to place the rose onto Pansy's hand. She smiled in return and tucked it behind her ear.

"Thank you."

Harry replied with a small smile of his own.

The door slid open.

The annoying buck-toothed girl was back.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Harry heard Draco mutter from beside him in an annoyed tone of voice. Privately, he agreed. Was it so incredibly difficult to have a train ride in peace?

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor and he says we're nearly there." she said.

"Thank you." Pansy cut in, though her tone of voice suggested she was anything but. "Could you leave us so we can get ready?"

"Alright alright." Hermione said in the same bossy tone of voice as before. " I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." She left, the door closing behind her.

"Thank Merlin." Pansy muttered. Both Draco and Harry nodded in agreement.

Harry got Eris' terrarium out of his bag and set it down onto the floor where it automatically returned to its normal size. With a bit of coaxing, he managed to persuade the snake to leave the comfort and warmth of his shoulders for her vivarium so that he could get dressed in the proper wizarding attire. Harry shrugged off his jacket and retrieved the long black school robes from his bag, slipping them over his head. Draco and Pansy put on their own, though the green-eyed boy had no idea where they'd been keeping them all that time.

A voice rang through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry turned to Eris. _"Will you be alright ssstaying here until you are taken to the sssschool?" _he hissed, warily watching both Draco and Pansy for their reactions. Their faces showed no hint of fear or disgust; Harry relaxed.

Eris nodded her reply and settled down into her vivarium, falling asleep almost immediately.

The train was slowing as Pansy adjusted Draco's robes and got the pale boy to do the same for her. A strand of white blond hair had fallen astray of the rest on Draco's head, laying across his forehead; Harry reached over and swept it back for him. Draco thanked him with a smile. Pansy tried to tame Harry's hair but failed spectacularly, and the three shared a quick laugh over how Harry would always have a permanent bedhead and joined the tightly-packed crowd of people already outside in the train corridor just as the train gradually slowed to a stop.

The doors opened and Harry shivered slightly as the cold night air slunk into the warmth of the hallway. People around him pushed and shoved their way towards the exits. Draco, Pansy, and Harry were elbowed by the throng onto a tiny, shadowed platform and the three ended up linking arms to avoid being separated by the shivering crowd, eager to get out of the cold. There was an extremely large hairy man with a lamp standing off to one side, towering over the sea of students who were all struggling to get to wherever they were supposed to go.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" he hollered, though Harry guessed he needn't have bothered; his voice seemed like it would be loud enough normally. Obediently, a small group of children started clustering around him. Draco, Pansy, and Harry made their way there as well.

"C'mon, follow me– any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

The children did as instructed, walking along a steep narrow path, slippery with water and slimy plants. Harry suddenly recalled memories of playing childhood games like Follow the Leader with Alex and wondered where his twin had gotten to. Even with the light from the giant's lantern, it was extremely hard to see which way they were going. Harry almost fell once or twice, with only Draco's arm or Pansy's helpful warnings as to where the slipperier bits were to stop him from gaining an interesting array of bruises as souvenir of this journey.

After a few more minutes of plodding, sliding, and a few falls, the giant spoke again almost reverently. "Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here."

The students slowed and there was a loud oohing and aahing from those near the front. Draco, from his place beside Harry, rolled his eyes at their childishness. The narrow path ended suddenly where it met with a lake that had water so dark it almost seemed black. Its surface was completely calm and, reflected in the water was a magnificent castle.

An awe-inspiring haze of magic swirled around the school. Its majestic towers and turrets were bathed in moonlight and all windows shone with a soft orange light, making the whole building seem welcoming and warm, even in the dark and shivering cold of night. Harry could already picture the spiralling staircases and the uncountable corridors, the numerous classrooms which he'd be expected to navigate on his own and the Great Hall, featured so prominently in his parents' stories of their school days that he had almost managed to convince himself that he'd been there before.

And finally at last, it hit Harry that that place would be where he would spend most of his time for the next seven years. The child smiled, pleased and slow.

He'd finally come home.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

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**A/N:** The friendship has been finalised, and the silver trio has been born! (Draco, Pansy, and Harry)

The wiki didn't really aid me much in finding a somewhat showy spell that a first year could do, so I had to create my own. (_Mutatio roza_) It literally means "To change– rose" since I figured I didn't need to go too fancy in the incantation ('cos Latin's pretty fancy already.) The other spell Harry used, _Diffindo_, was apparently taught in second-year charms, so I figured it wouldn't be too difficult to learn, especially since our little emerald-eyed darling has been reading books since he figured out how to interpret those squiggly lines on paper.

I'm still trying to refine my chapter-writing skills. Looks like there's going to be a lot of odd-lengthed chapters, alternating between super long and fairly short lengths. This chapter was 7k, almost as much as the Diagon Alley chapter (just under, actually), while the previous chapter (Platform 9 and Three-Quarters) only had 2.5k words.

Thank you all so much for 25 favourites and 46 follows! Woah, I honestly had no idea so many people would be interested in this story when I first started writing it. Thank you for sticking with me!

_The remaining questions have been removed due to them either having been answered or due to them being redundant as they were relating to the next chapter which has been posted already._

Feel free to add any ideas/anything you'd like to see in the story! I can't promise that I'll definitely use them, but I sure as heck will try! If you have any questions/confusion relating to absolutely anything, I'd be glad to help you with them. ( uwu)

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Thankyouthankyouthankyou**thankyou** so so so so much to all the brilliant people who reviewed and/or just dropped in to say hi. It feels really good to have something other than the views counter on to make me excited to keep writing and remind me that _yes_, people actually _do_ read what I post. The reviews make me feel all fluffy and warm, thank you so much for them.


	7. Chapter 6: The Welcoming Feast

Chapter 6

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There was a small fleet of wooden boats sitting on the edge of the lake that was closest to the students, Harry noticed. They were decent-sized, but built for purpose rather than comfort and beauty, judging from their hard edges and harder looking seats. Pansy shot them a disdainful look as the gigantic man told them to get in.

Naturally, Draco, Pansy, and Harry chose to go into the same boat and were soon joined by a cheerfully sandy-haired boy with an Irish accent who introduced himself as Seamus Finnigan and somehow roped them all into conversation. They were in the middle of discussing the Hogwarts houses when the giant of a man spoke again.

"Everyone in?" he called from his boat– he was so large that he had to have a whole one for himself. "Right then– FORWARD!"

At his command, the fleet abruptly started moving forwards, across the mirror-like surface of the lake. Ripples from the boats distorted the image of Hogwarts reflected in the water until it was just a haze of swirling oranges and yellows that stood out starkly in the inky darkness of night.

A hush fell over the students as they sailed closer and closer to the cliff on which the enormous castle that was Hogwarts stood. It towered over them, radiating both magic and power.

A few awed sighs could be heard as they approached a curtain of ivy, the giant-man yelled "Heads down!" and the children obliged just as the fleet of boats sailed through the trailing vines that were hiding a large opening in the cliff face leading to a shadowy tunnel. Presumably, it went under the cliff upon which Hogwarts perched. Light from the huge man's lantern flickered off the dampened walls and was silent save for the occasional sounds of water dripping; the students themselves were hushed in anticipation.

All of a sudden, the tunnel ended. The boats carried them into an underground harbour of sorts where they stopped at the water's edge and the children clamoured out onto the pebbles and small stones that lined the water's shore. The large man leading the way, the herd of first years shuffled up a passageway that had been carved out of the rock face, finally stepping onto dew-dampened grass right outside the main entrance of the castle.

Walking up a flight of cobbled stone steps, the students huddled, shivering in front of a pair of enormous oak doors, even taller than their guide. Draco loudly complained about the possibility of getting hypothermia. Harry giggled a little hysterically- he didn't particularly enjoy boat rides. After checking that everyone was present, the large man raised his enormous hand and knocked loudly three times on the thick oak wood.

The doors were opened almost immediately by a tall, dark-haired witch wearing emerald-green robes and a severe-looking pointed hat. She stood illuminated by the flickering torches that lined the stone walls of the castle and looked like she would be extremely strict.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." said their gigantic guide.

That name... Harry remembered her! He'd read that she was the Head of Gryffindor, as well as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, it said so on his acceptance letter.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall replied. Her eyes swept over the students and Harry suddenly found himself wishing that he had spent a bit more time making himself look neater that morning.

The Head of Gryffindor house pulled the door open and stepped backwards into the enormous entrance hall. The flickering torches casted shadows that gave the whole room, if such a large area could even be called that, a very mysterious feeling about it. A few portraits tittered together, flitting from frame to frame to gossip about the newly-arrived students. In the very center of the entrance hall, the largest and grandest marble staircase that Harry had ever seen stood, swooping handrails that the dark-haired child itched to slide down on on either side of it.

The professor turned and strode to the right, evidently expecting the children to follow. Her shoes made clicking noises on the flagstones that lined the hallway and the sounds echoed off the cobblestone walls as she walked. The first year students pushed and shoved their way through the enormous oaken doors until they fell into the warmth of the entrance hall, shaking away the last tremors that the chilly night air had caused.

A hum of voices permeated the air as the first years, lead by the professor, approached a set of doors to the right. Instead of leading them to the large set of double doors that probably lead to the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall ushered the students into a small room that was off to one side. It was empty of all furniture save for a desk with a broken leg. A single window showed the first years a spectacular view of the whole castle reflected in the dark waters of the lake outside, presumably the one they had just sailed across on the wooden boats. Harry stood as close as he could to the back wall, feeling extremely cramped with the large amount of children crowding into one small space.

Professor McGonagall stood imposingly at the only entrance to the room. "Welcome to Hogwarts." she said, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. However, before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will cause your house to lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

Harry nodded. He'd heard that from his parents before and hoped that he could earn his house lots of points. It would take effort, of course, to get onto the teacher's good sides and to do extra reading outside of regular classwork, but Harry would probably have done the latter anyway without much persuading required.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." the professor intoned, her gaze lingering purposefully at several people in the crowd.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," concluded Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." Saying that, she turned and left the room. Nobody made a sound.

The green-eyed boy guessed that the only thing needing to be neatened was his hair; however, he knew for a fact that taming his permanent bedhead was physically impossible. Harry sighed. Standing next to him, Draco adjusted and brushed invisible specks of dust off his clothing while Pansy tucked a wayward strand of coffee-coloured hair next to the transfigured cobalt rose, still secured behind her ear.

Draco turned to Pansy. "Do I look decent?"

Pansy chuckled. "You always look decent to us, Dray. The question is whether or not you deem _yourself_ presentable."

The blond turned away with a smile, assured of his appearance. Pansy looked at Harry and smoothed his hair back with a gentle hand.

"There. Now, you look a lot neater." she said. Harry bowed his head gratefully.

"You look lovely." Harry commented, "Though, I suppose you knew that without me telling you." Pansy smiled and turned away to adjust her own hair a bit more.

"D'ya know how they sort us into houses?" Someone near the front of the room asked the person beside them.

"I don't know, but I've heard it's some sort of test." came the nervous reply.

Harry scoffed. Of course it was; however, this wasn't the type that one could hope to study for. Though, the annoying bushy-haired girl from the train obviously didn't know that, judging from the mumbled list of spells that she was aggressively whispering. The Sorting Hat simply "tested" one's inclination, personality-wise, for a particular house. Still, Harry chose not to mention it; it was amusing to see the frightened first years squirm.

Suddenly, a few kids screamed. Harry winced. _My poor eardrums... _

Around twenty semi-transparent pale white things had just streamed out of the wall that Harry was leaning against. One of the ghosts passed straight _through_ him and the green-eyed boy shivered; it was rather like being doused in a bucket of icy water. The silvery things appeared to be having a debate of sorts but stopped upon seeing the herd of frightened first years.

"New students!" exclaimed a chubby man who looked like a monk, "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few of the children nodded, apparently shocked to silence. Harry rolled his eyes. D_o people normally amuse themselves by squeezing into stuffy crowded rooms? _

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! It's my old house, you know." the monk continued, nodding emphatically. _So he's the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff house ghost._

"Move along now." an impatient voice said. Professor McGonagall had returned. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

The ghosts seemed reluctant to leave but, with a sharp glare from the dark-haired lady, they floated one by one through the wall opposite to the one they had come from. Professor McGonagall turned back to the first years. "Now," she said, "form a line and follow me."

The students quickly shuffled into a somewhat linear configuration and hurried after Professor McGonagall. Out of the chamber and back into the hall, they walked, eventually stopping at the entrance to the Great Hall that Harry had seen earlier.

The professor flung open the imposing set of double doors and Harry gasped, his eyes wide.

The eldest Potter child had built up an image of the Great Hall in his mind using eleven years' worth of stories that his parents told him. However, even his imagination didn't come _close_ to covering everything there.

Harry's mind hadn't managed to capture the way that hundreds of thousands of candles floating in midair lit up the whole massive room area, nor had he realised how shiny the gold goblets and dinnerware that covered the four tables stretching from one end of the hall to the other were. Even though the dark-haired child had known that there would be ghosts spread out throughout the hall, he hadn't known that they would be so _easy_ to distinguish from the rest of the students because of their distinct silvery white colouring, nor had he managed to imagine the sheer _amount_ of students that could fit into the Great Hall, all seated at their respective tables, or how pin-drop quiet it would get when they paused in their conversations to watch the first years enter.

Harry may have been imagining Hogwarts, but he hadn't imagined _Hogwarts_.

Professor McGonagall lead the students up to the area just before the staff's table and all four houses watched them as the first years shuffled up and faced the rest of the school.

Remembering a passage from _Hogwarts: A History_, Harry looked up at the ceiling and gaped at the sheer beauty of it. A midnight blue sky sprinkled with a liberal coating of twinkling stars overlooked the whole of the Great Hall. The dark-haired child had known that it was enchanted to look like the sky outside but, looking at the highest point of the massive room, it was hard to believe that there was a ceiling there at all, even though he knew it to be true.

A small creak from in front distracted Harry from admiring the rest of the hall's aesthetics. Professor McGonagall had set a four-legged wooden stool down in front of the first years. On it, she placed an old, tattered hat that may have been pointed at one part of its life, though it wasn't really any more. The hat appeared to have been patched a great deal in its life and was brown... mostly, though there were a fair bit of questionable stains spattered along its surface.

_This must be the Sorting Hat._

The hat twitched and the hall grew silent. Then, a large portion of the hat near the brim ripped open, like a mouth, and the hat started singing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,"

_Oh trust me, I don't_

"But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all."

_Was that a pun? Muggles have a type of hat they call a cap._

"There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;"

_Not to mention their foolishness, their impulsiveness, and their unwillingness to think before they act. I'd rather not._

"You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;"

Harry tilted his head. _I can't really argue with that statement._

"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;"

_Perhaps I'm a Ravenclaw. I do like "wit and learning" a great deal. Father certainly seems to think so._

"Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends."

James had always spoken badly of Slytherin, though Harry didn't really see the problem with the silver-and-green house. _So what if they were ambitious and cunning? Isn't that a good thing?_

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into thunderous applause. Harry clapped absentmindedly as well, while his thoughts continued along their interrupted route.

Slytherin seemed to be a mixture of the other three houses. If one didn't have ambition, then one couldn't really be a Gryffindor because they wouldn't have anything to them worth being all daring and courageous about. It was impossible to be cunning without intelligence, so Slytherins possessed Ravenclaw's most valued quality as well. As for Hufflepuff... Well, without toil, Slytherins couldn't even hope to achieve or seize whatever it was that they were trying to obtain with cunning, so that trait went without question. _Really, Slytherin was just the house that the Sorting Hat sent people to when they were equally inclined towards all the houses._

The hat in question bowed to the four house tables and became still again just as the last of the claps had echoed away.

Professor McGonagall was standing behind the hat as it performed its song. She walked to the front and faced the first years, grasping a piece of parchment so long it reached down to her knees when she held it up.

"When I call your name," the professor said, addressing the first years waiting in line, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

"Abbot, Hannah."

A short, pink-faced girl nearly fell over herself trying to reach the stool. Despite her pigtails, the Sorting Hat still fell past her nose as she placed it on her head. A moment passed.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the far right decorated with yellow and black banners cheered and clapped as Hannah ducked her head and joined them.

"Bones, Susan."

A dark-haired girl scuttled to the hat and yanked it over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it yelled again, and "Bones, Susan" made a beeline for the seat next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terrence." was an unassuming brunet that was promptly placed into Ravenclaw. When he sat down, to loud applause from the blue-and-silver table, several Ravenclaws stood up and shook his hand.

"Brocklehurst, Amanda."

A few seconds passed before a tall dark-skinned girl with her dark brown hair fluffed out in a halo around her face was pushed forward. She'd evidently zoned out. Harry didn't blame her. After a few seconds, she was put into "RAVENCLAW!" as well and joined their table to loud cheering and clapping.

"Brown, Lavender" was the first Gryffindor of this year and shuffled to the red-and-gold table to much clapping and cheering; Harry thought he could see the ginger twins from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters loudly hollering. The Gryffindors certainly seemed to be the noisiest of the lot.

Harry tuned out the sounds of the Great Hall after "Bulstrode, Millicent" sat down at the Slytherin table to loud but polite clapping from the green-and-silver house and only started concentrating again after the boy beside him, "Finnigan, Seamus" had been declared a Gryffindor after close to a minute's deliberation.

"Granger, Hermione."

Said bushy-haired and buck-toothed know-it-all ran to the stool and eagerly stuffed her head into the hat. _I'm suprised it fit, considoring how arrogant she is... probably one of the most bigheaded people I know. _

After a while, the Sorting Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry let out the metaphorical breath that he had been holding. At least she wouldn't be in his house.

The toad-less boy from the train, Neville Longbottom, fell over on the way to the stool. A few students giggled. When the hat decided on "GRYFFINDOR!", he sprinted off still wearing it on his head and had to run back to give it to the next person in line while the rest of the school gave up on containing their laughter.

When Draco's name was called, the hat had barely touched his head before it yelled "SLYTHERIN!"

The blond strode to the green-and-silver table where he was greeted by loud claps. Harry grinned at him and he smirked back, almost saying "See? I told you so."

A few more people were sorted, and then "Parkinson, Pandora" was called and Harry's brunette friend sashayed up to the stool and placed the hat onto her head. Harry blinked. _Pandora?_ After about half a minute, the Sorting Hat proclaimed her to be a "SLYTHERIN!" and she joined said table to a round of applause, looking at the green-eyed child standing with the rest of the first years. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Pandora?" he mouthed. Pansy nodded with a rueful smile. The dark-haired boy made a mental note to question her about it later, after the sorting.

Three more people were called before "Potter, Alexander."

Immediately, whispers sprouted and spread across the hall.

"Potter?"

"Did she say Potter?"

"_The_ Alex Potter?"

People sat straighter and craned their heads to get a better look at the first years in front.

The younger twin shuffled towards the stool– no wonder the elder twin hadn't seen him, Harry was closer to the back of the line while Alex was in the front. and shoved the hat down into his head, his posture rigid. Harry frowned. The hat seemed to thought for around half a minute before shouting "GRYFFINDOR!"

The brown-eyed twin shakily made his way over to the red-and-gold table to the loudest cheer yet as Professor McGonagall smoothed the sheet of parchment paper she held in her hand. _Is Alex alright? What happe–_

"Potter, Harold."

The whispers started again. Harry caught some small snippets of them as he made his way over to the stool.

"_Another_ Potter?"

"_Peters_, wasn't it?"

"Did I hear it correctly?"

"Are you sure she said it right?"

Harry bit his lip and mentally counted down from ten before placing the surprisingly heavy hat onto his head. The last thing he saw before his vision was obscured by the inside of the headpiece's body was a sea of students all talking amongst one another, trying to decide on if or how he was related to Alex Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

"Hmm." the hat murmured. It sounded like it was talking straight into Harry's mind, sort of like how a voice "narrated" the things that the green-eyed boy read as his eyes passed over the words. "Well there's intelligence there, that's for sure. And talent, yes, plenty of talent, not to mention a nice thirst to prove yourself, especially after being ignored for so long in favour of your brother. Well, wherever shall I put you?"

_Hurry up you useless piece of fabric. _

"Now now," the hat continued, its voice sounding more amused than anything, "no need to get tetchy with me, I'm just doing my job."

Harry gripped the edge of the stool so hard his fingernails sunk into the varnished wood. _Then do it. Place me in a house already and be done with it._

The hat chuckled. "I know just the place for you. You'll fit in there well, I reckon, and it's the perfect house to help you achieve the acknowledgement you wish for." Saying that, the hat paused and Harry felt its brim split open again.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The newly sorted snake removed the hat, setting it back onto the stool. Then, Harry walked over to the Slytherins' table and took his seat next to Pansy with his head bowed, his bangs hiding his face, purposefully ignoring her concerned expression. Only a few people applauded for him, the rest were still talking about Alex Potter, though the scattered claps soon died away as "Qin, Fay" was called and a girl with inky black hair shuffled across the front and gingerly placed the Sorting Hat onto her head. The whispers about Alex continued, though the students seemed to have unanimously decided that Harry looked too much like the Boy Who Lived for them to not be related. A girl named Gemma Farley introduced herself as the Slytherin prefect and the ghost sitting next to Draco as the Bloody Baron as she shook Harry's hand.

Harry stared at the Gryffindor table, searching for his twin. There was another table between the snakes and the lions, blocking most of his view of the Gryffindors. No matter how much he craned his neck or tilted his body, Harry couldn't manage to see the familiar mop of black hair.

Then, all of a sudden, "Zabini, Blaise" was taking his place at the Slytherin table and Harry realised that he'd tuned out the remainder of the sorting.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her piece of parchment and took both the wooden stool and the hat away again. A twinkling man got up from the teachers' table. Harry recognised him to be Albus Dumbledore, both from his reading and from the chocolate frog card that he'd gotten earlier on the train ride. The Headmaster of Hogwarts made his way up to the podium in front of the house tables and swept his arms out in a greeting

"Welcome, students," Dumbledore proclaimed. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

The school cheered and clapped as he sat back down. All of a sudden, dishes piled as high as they could go with food suddenly appeared all at once on top of the previously bare tables. Their aromas wafted around the Great Hall.

_How did he do it? Was the food there already and only charmed to appear when he said those words? Did the odd diction summon the food directly or did it trigger an indirect summoning or–_

Pansy nudged Harry out of his reverie and gestured towards a plate of roast potatoes. The dark-haired boy took sighed, resigning himself to being unable to understand the spell combination until a later date.

Harry took some chips and ladled some gravy onto them, heaping a small pile of peas and carrots on the side. He took a small bite. It was _delicious. _The food reminded him a little of Missy's cooking, back at the Potter Estate. Harry chewed some more and searched for his butter knife that had mysteriously gone missing.

_Oh, I almost forgot._

"Pandora, huh?" Harry commented, looking at his companion to the left.

Pansy swallowed her mouthful of food before replying. "Oh hush. Nobody even calls me that except some distant relatives that I only ever see once every few years. I'm Pansy, simple." She huffed. "Pass the pepper, Harry."

"Of course, _Pandora_." Harry smirked. Pansy promptly elbowed him. The dark-haired boy laughed as he nudged the pepper shaker towards her.

When everybody had eaten their fill, the main meal faded away from the tables until the golden goblets and plates were as immaculate and spotless as before. In their place, desserts appeared, all the kinds one could think of. Mountains of precariously wobbling multicoloured jellies, blocks and slabs of ice cream, piles of doughnuts, and towers and towers of cakes, blueberries, raspberries, mulberries, blackberries, tarts and pies of all shapes and sizes, it was all there. Harry's mouth watered.

After a bit of deliberation between the rice pudding or trifle, Harry took a small bowl and instead filled it with a few enormous, juicy, scarlet strawberries and topped it with a few spoonfuls of delightfully oozy melted chocolate.

The dark-haired snake speared a piece with his fruit fork and nibbled the tip of one delicately. _Mmm_

"So, Baron," Harry heard Draco say, "How did you end up covered in blood?"

The Bloody Baron glared at the blond and went to sit wordlessly beside "Zabini, Blaise" on the other side of the table. The other first year didn't look too happy about the arrangement. Harry suspected that that was exactly what Draco was trying to accomplish when he asked the ghost such a personal question.

The blond shot the eldest Potter child a smug look. _Definitely Slytherin._

Having finished his strawberries, Harry started examining the teachers table. The giant man, Hagrid, from earlier was there, drinking out of an enormous goblet. Professor McGonagall was conversing with an extremely short little man with a shock of white hair while Dumbledore appeared to be listening in, interjecting little remarks every once in a while. Harry remembered Professor Quirrell from the Leaky Cauldron. The turbaned man seemed to be conversing with a grumpy-looking professor that had extremely greasy black hair and a hooked nose.

The dark-haired boy could feel a slight headache nudging at his temple. It was getting late. Even though Harry usually slept at odd hours and refused to wake before noontime had come and passed, he could feel his eyelids drooping. He yawned widely.

Finally, the desserts too had disappeared and Headmaster Dumbledore swept his way forward towards the podium again. The hall became silent once more.

"Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." Dumbledore started. "First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, and a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Here, the headmaster paused and twinkled purposefully in the direction of the redheaded twins from Gryffindor.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

A few sighs of disappointment could be heard, presumably from the first years.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." Harry smirked at Draco. The blond was listening with rapt attention.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." _What kind of school leaves things that can kill students out for them to find?!_

Beside Harry, Pansy seemed be thinking more or less the same thing. She'd stiffened in indignation.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Dumbledore flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon streamed out of the tip of it, twisting itself into words high above all the tables.

Professor McGonagall's smile had become extremely fake and forced, as had the rest of the teachers'. Harry wondered if the school song could really be that terrible.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune. Off we go!"

As the school began singing or, rather, shouting their way through the song, Harry winced.

It was.

Everyone finished the school song at different times until, at last, only the redheaded Gryffindor twins were left, singing to a slow funeral march. The headmaster conducted their last few lines with his wand and clapped loudly and enthusiastically when they finally finished.

"Ah, music," Dumbledore wistfully said, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. "A magic beyond all we do here!" _Circe I hope not. I came here to actually get an education._

"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" the headmaster finished with a flourish.

The Slytherins were led by Gemma back to the entrance hall and down a flight of stairs to the what Harry recognised to be the dungeons of the school. The prefect navigated dark labyrinths of the passageways lit by only flickering torches with skill and apparent ease.

"I suggest you do your best to remember the route there and back." she called over her shoulder, louder than the clicking echoes of the students' footsteps. "People have been known to have gotten lost and starved to death." Harry scoffed. However, incentive to memorise the way to the dorms or not, he knew that he'd still end up getting lost. _Maybe there's a spell for my abysmal sense of direction; though, for the time being, it looks like I'll have to draw a map._

They made several confusing turns which made Harry fell like they were just going around in wide circles, eventually stopping in front of a cobblestone wall bare of any decoration.

"Alright," Gemma addressed the Slytherin students, "Remember the password." She turned back towards to the wall. "_A posse ad esse._"

Harry nodded. He'd heard that saying before, since he'd studied a bit of Latin. Most spells had Latin roots; he'd thought it prudent to gain some background knowledge. _"A posse ad esse", "from possibility to actuality"_

A large piece of the wall, previously indistinguishable from the rest, slid open. Gemma strode through it and the rest of the students followed.

The Slytherin common room was, predictably, decorated with an abundance of greens and silvers. Harry marvelled at the floor to ceiling windows covered the opposite wall and gasped. They were underwater! Harry remembered reading in _Hogwarts: A History_ that the Slytherin common room and dorms were located almost directly under the Black Lake_. _ The single piece of glass spanning the length and width of the entire wall was so clear that it was difficult to believe that there was a window between the common room and the water there to begin with. Seaweed drifted lazily with the push and pulls from the waves far above, on the surface, and schools of fish and other magical sea creatures stopped to stare at the students as they passed. As Harry watched, entranced, a giant shadowy form passed in front of them and an enormous eye blinked at the occupants of the room.

Rounded, emerald-green lamps were suspended all around and they casted a soft, comfortable silvery light on the entire common room. The dark-haired boy tapped on one as he walked past it and it bobbed up and down for a moment before settling back into its previous position.

Draco nudged Harry and tilted his head, gesturing towards the ceiling. Looking up, he gasped with unrestrained delight. The uppermost part of the common room was extremely high, higher than what should physically be possible, seeing as they were underground. However, the most amazing part of it was that it was enchanted to show the sky in a way that was almost identical to the ceiling of the Great Hall. Stars twinkled merrily and a few clouds drifted across the nighttime sky.

"Woah..." Pansy breathed, following Harry's line of sight.

The students' shoes sank into the emerald green carpet as they made their way to the centre of the common room. Gemma stopped in front of an elaborately decorated mantleplace that framed a crackling fire.

"All second years and up are to go to their dorms. First years stay behind with me." the prefect ordered.

The older students left through twin arches on either side of the common room. After their footsteps had mostly faded, Gemma sat down in an emerald and silver armchair in front of the fireplace.

"Pull up a seat." she instructed. The first years all found their own chair and arranged themselves haphazardly around her in a semi-circle. The surprisingly comfortable armchairs were all high-backed, Harry noticed. He felt very regal sitting in them.

"Now, let's go over some ground rules." Gemma continued, her voice as as smooth as a calm sea, just before a storm. "Breakfast begins at 7:30 sharp. All mail from the outside– that means post not from those within Hogwarts itself– will arrive at breakfast time. Your schedules will be handed out tomorrow morning at breakfast by our head of house, Professor Snape. At 9 o' clock exactly, classes will begin." She paused, surveying the crowd of students with a critical eye. _  
_

"I _suggest_ you not be late." she concluded with an icy smile. A few first years shivered.

"Now, since you have been sorted into Slytherin, you have a duty to your house and to your fellow housemates. Rule breaking is tolerated. However, being caught doing so is not." Draco and Harry snickered, looking at one another.

"You will study hard and bring honour to your house." Gemma continued with a glare at the blond and black-haired boys. "We, the older students, do not tolerate any losses of any points that we have worked so hard to achieve. The Slytherins have won the prestigious house cup for the past six years and you will not be the cause of us losing it this year. Am I clear?" she finished, her expression congenial but her voice dangerously calm.

The first years all nodded, some more terrified than others.

"You will aid those younger and more naïve than you and you will treat those older and wiser than you with respect._'The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.' _We may not be all related by blood, but we, the Slytherins, are family. If that means that you have to sacrifice your time to aid a fellow Slytherin in need, so be it.

"_'__United we stand, divided we fall.'_ If you yourself are in need of help, let go of your pride and ask for assistance. It is better to stand with the help of another than it is to remain on the ground alone. Understood?"

They nodded again.

Gemma abruptly smiled. "Good. Now, boys to the left of the common room and girls to the right. Locate your dorm room. You will be sharing with another of the same year and gender. Your names will be on the door of your room. If you wish, you may switch rooms with another of the same year and gender as you and the castle will change the names on the room doors accordingly; however, you will have to move your own belongings over.

"I trust that you can follow those simple instructions."

Saying that, the prefect left via the arch on the right. Harry lead the other first year boys through the left opening which lead to a set of seven doors that had "Seventh Years", "Sixth Years", and so forth on them on silver plaques. The door marked "First Years" lead them to a spacious hallway with dark mahogany doors, five to each side, brightly lit by the same lamps as before. Harry walked along, reading the names off of each door as he went.

"Oi Harry! Over here!" Draco waved from the end of the hallway. "We're roommates!"

Harry hurried over to read the plaque for himself, hardly daring to believe it.

"That's brilliant, Draco!"

The blond nodded, pleased. "We're also right to the bathrooms, so that means we don't have to drip all the way down the hall wearing only a towel when we shower."

"Fantastic!"

Draco held the door open for Harry and they went inside. Eris hissed a greeting from inside her vivarium which had been propped up on the dresser.

All of a sudden, Harry's eyelids became extremely heavy. The exhausting day was catching up to him now, and the dark-haired boy yawned long and wide. His limbs felt too heavy for him to lift. Harry only managed to stay awake long enough to get his pyjamas out of his trunk and put them on before collapsing into his magnificently soft four-poster bed.

"G'night, Draco." the dark-haired boy mumbled, already feeling the beginnings of sleep gripping his conscious.

"Night, Harry." came a soft whisper back.

* * *

**A/N:** I was literally less than 500 words away from being finished with the proof reading and initial editing of this when my iPad died on me.

I hadn't saved.

I'd spent over an hour on it.

I literally did the writer's equivalent of rage-quitting.

* * *

**Actual A/N:** Another lengthy chapter! This one's to thank everyone for their amazing and overwhelmingly fantastic support. It literally feels like just yesterday when I was writing a thank you for 20 followers. Now, we're almost to 70 (66 at the moment!) (^w^)

I ALSO GOT A LOVELY BETA HECK YEAH. THEY'RE CALLED NEVERLOOKINGBACKFROMLIFE AND THEY'RE SUPER AWESOME SO I SORT OF DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO THEM AS WELL.

You'll notice that I changed the names of a few people getting sorted. This is because I'm putting full names for all the characters during the sorting. I mean, "Terry" and "Mandy" (renamed Terence and Amanda) seem more like nicknames than actual names (though, if you have any of those names, that's totally cool too.) I thought that "Pansy", being a child of one of those snobby elite pureblood families probably wouldn't have such a "common" name (let's face it, old pureblood families are the ultimate hipsters.) So, I did some research and thought that "Pandora" might just work for her "real" name, though people will still refer to her as Pansy so it won't alter much of canon.

If you're not a fan of those changes, tell me and I'll try to improve. ( ^o^)

Apologies for changing the canon Slytherin common rooms, but I thought that Canon!Harry would have viewed the room differently to _my_ Harry, just because Canon!Harry already had an extreme dislike towards Slytherins when he entered their common room for the first time, which would have altered his perceptions of it a lot. I also considered how many old and rich pureblooded families are Slytherins and assumed that they'd probably want their precious little babies to live in luxury. Thus, the new common room.

_The questions have been removed due to them either having been answered or due to them being redundant as they were relating to the next chapter which has been posted already._

Thank you all for the incredible support! I hope I'll continue to be deserving of it!


	8. Chapter 7: Charms

Chapter 7 

* * *

Draco, Harry learnt, was one of those people who rose at completely unholy hours of their own free will.

It started the very next morning, the first day of classes, when Harry was shaken awake at far-too-bloody-early o' clock by the pyjama-clad blond. Despite the fact that Draco was still wearing his sleepwear, the blond's hair was immaculately gelled back and that showed Harry that his roommate had been awake for a while.

Draco had gotten a pillow thrown at his face.

It missed and bounced off the wall behind him, not surprisingly, seeing as Harry's eyes were still firmly closed.

"Bugger off, Lex." the Potter heir mumbled, curling up into a ball.

"Harry. It's time to wake up."

"Noooooooooo." Harry whined, dragging his blankets over his head. "Dun wanna."

Draco chuckled at his dormmate's childish actions. "C'mon, Harry. We'll be late for class if you sleep in more."

Harry blinked. The fog of sleep distorting his thoughts was slowly dissipating.

Class. Classes meant school. He was going to school right now. A wizarding school– Hogwarts. Hogwarts meant magic.

Harry bolted upright, instantly awake.

_I'm learning magic today!_

The blond standing next to Harry's bed laughed. "Well, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

_I'm going to be late._

_I'M GOING TO BE LATE!_

_IT'S ONLY THE FIRST DAY AND I'M GOING TO BE LATE._

The raven-haired child almost fell out of his four-poster bed in his haste to get ready and crouched down in front of his suitcase struggling frantically with its latches.

Draco laughed again, watching Harry's antics. "You don't need rush _quite_ that much. It's only 6:47."

Harry shook his head, furiously rummaging through his trunk.

Draco shot him a questioning glance. "Surely not."

"No, I really do. I take _forever_ in the showers. We're practically late already." Harry wailed as he tugged a few heavy-looking books out of his trunk.

The raven-haired boy appeared to get more and more agitated. He was throwing clothing out of his suitcase now, not caring where they went.

"Oh Merlin's bloody shoelaces where did my underwear go?!" Harry cried.

Spotting a pair of bright purple boxers that had been thrown onto his bed, Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are these yours?" he asked, indicating them with a nod of his head.

Harry was too rushed to even be embarrassed about them.

The green-eyed boy snatched his underwear off of the bed and Draco stood back as Harry-hurricane sprinted past him armed with a towel, toothbrush, and the atrocious boxers, almost forgetting to close the door to their dorm in his haste. His footsteps, albeit muffled by the carpet, could clearly be heard running in the direction of the bathrooms.

When the blond was sure that his roommate was well out of hearing range, he burst out into laughter.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Draco and Harry got lost a grand total of 8 times trying to navigate themselves out of the dungeons. By the time they reached the Great Hall, breakfast had already started, and students were eagerly digging into plates laden with foodstuffs. Harry's hair was still wet from his twenty minute shower and had dampened the back of his hastily thrown on robes. The elder twin scanned around the the Gryffindor table with his eyes as Pansy waved them over but couldn't see his twin's familliar bird's nest hairstyle anywhere.

Professor Snape, Harry assumed, walked over to the Slytherin table with a stack of parchment paper. The hook-nosed man glared at the elder Potter child as he handed him his schedule. Harry looked confused as the Slytherin Head of house strode back to the staff's table in a whirl of billowing robes. Surely he hadn't done something to offend his Head of House already? They hadn't even had a conversation yet!

"Did you have fun finding your way here?" Pansy smirked, spooning a dollop of yogurt into her bowl.

Draco glared at her. "Of course. It was so _extremely_ fun, spending close to 30 minutes trying to figure out where breakfast was."

The brunette giggled. "I found a crowd of third years and just followed them."

Harry yawned and rested his forehead on the table. _It's too early for this._ He was tempted to go back to sleep right there and then, actually. The hard wood's surface was remarkably comfortable.

Draco ruffled Harry's hair while consulting his timetable. "Breakfast, Harry. You'll need your strength. We have History of Magic with the Gryffindors first, double charms, and transfiguration– all that before lunch."

The raven-haired snake groaned, sitting up. He yawned again. "Any pancakes around?"

There was a stack by Pansy's elbow. She passed them obligingly.

"Thanks." Harry mumbled, flipping a few pancakes onto his plate. They missed, landing with a soft 'plop' in a bowlful of yoghurt. The raven-haired Slytherin stared at it unblinking for a few seconds before tilting his head up to the enchanted ceiling and letting out a long drawn-out whine.

"There there." Draco said with an amused smile. "Here, _I'll_ put the rest of the stack onto your plate, seeing as your motor skills haven't quite returned to you. No harm done, alright?"

Harry meanwhile, let out another loud grumble. He'd somehow managed to drag his sleeve through a bowlful of jam. Draco sighed and passed him a stack of serviettes.

"How did that even happen?" the blond asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was trying to reach the golden syrup!" Harry protested, dabbing at his sleeve furiously.

An older Slytherin student, trying in vain to hide his amusement, stepped in. "Here, let me help." he chuckled, pulling out his wand. "Tergeo."

The charm siphoned off all of the remaining jam, though Harry's sleeve had ended up smoking slightly.

Harry stared wide eyed at his robe and then at the person who'd helped him. "... Thank you." he eventually managed to get out.

"It's alright." the older student smiled, surprisingly warm for a Slytherin, taking a seat at the other end of the table.

On Harry's right, Draco and Pansy had started debating about charms and potions.

"We have literally _just_ seen how useful cleaning charms are. Think about how much time we save daily by not doing it the muggle way!" Pansy stressed, jabbing at the air with her fork.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Alright. Utilitarian charms make life a lot easier, yes, but nothing even _compares_ to the perfection that is Felix Felicis; you have to admit that." at Pansy's bemused expression, Draco huffed. "Back me up here, Harry!"

Harry, meanwhile, was searching around his seat with a confused expression on his face. "Where'd my schedule go?"

"It's on your lap." Draco chuckled.

Harry looked down. It was indeed.

The dark-haired snake rested his forehead against the hard wood of the table again. "I'm a mess." he mumbled. Draco patted his back sympathetically.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry nearly got his foot wedged when a step halfway up a staircase vanished just as he was about to step on it and Pansy got her cheeks pinched ruthlessly by a little man with a wide, wicked grin who appeared from nowhere and vanished in the same way.

"They should've given us a map of the school, it would have been ever so helpful." Draco grumbled as he pulled open another door to discover, for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day, that there was nothing but solid wall behind it.

"I don't think maps of Hogwarts exist, actually. It's supposed to make the school harder to invade during wartimes, because the enemy doesn't know how to plot their attacks." Harry supplied helpfully.

"Though Merlin knows why people would want to invade a _school_ of all things." Pansy shrugged.

Draco sighed and led them further down the corridor. "Well, we only have an _entire floor_ to search through and..." he looked down at his watch "only six minutes to do it."

Harry made a frustrated sound. "We're never going to find it at this rate. Hold on, I'm going to ask someone." The dark-haired boy surveyed the empty hallway and tapped lightly on the frame of a nearby painting. The group of nymphs previously laughing and dancing around in their frame merrily stopped to regard him with a cautious and fearful look.

"Excuse me," Harry smiled, using his most polite tone of voice and trying to look as unintimidating as possible, "but my friends and I are lost and we're almost late for our first class. Could you tell you us where the History of Magic classroom is?"

The subjects of the painting tittered together for a brief moment before one stepped forward bravely. "It is down the hall that way." she said in a trembling voice, "The place which you seek is the last opening to your right."

Harry bowed gratefully and thanked them before hurrying back to Draco and Pansy.

"Did you hear what they said?" the Potter child asked.

"Down the hall, last door to the right." Draco paraphrased, eyes still glued to his watch. "We have to hurry; there's only have three more minutes until class starts."

"Bloody hell."

The three sprinted down the corridor, their footsteps echoing loudly off the walls, and sat down in the front row of the classroom just as a shrivelled-looking ghost floated through the wall and took his place at the podium that had been set up in front of the tables. Harry anxiously swept his gaze around the room but he couldn't see Alex anywhere.

Then, the ghost launched right into a lecture about a goblin war in the most boredom-inducing tone of voice that Harry had ever heard.

In less than ten minutes, most of the class had fallen asleep to Professor Binns' droning monotone. The only two people who were seemingly immune to the ghost's voice, perfectly modulated to cause maximum drowsiness, were Hermione and Harry. The bushy-haired girl was frantically scribbling down notes while the Potter twin was idly doodling in the margin of his piece of parchment.

About a half hour into the class, the classroom door cracked open. Granger was too busy scribbling away to notice but Harry looked up just as Alex and his redheaded friend... Ronald? scurried into the classroom together. Alex brightened upon seeing his twin and made a move as if to sit next to Harry when they passed him but the Weasley grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the back of the classroom, shooting Harry a glare.

_Merlin. How do I keep offending people?!_

Harry spent the rest half taking notes and half watching Alex. His twin had fallen asleep with a quill in his hand and was drooling slightly onto his still blank piece of parchment.

It was amusing, the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort being overpowered by a simple monotone.

When the bell rang for the end of class, Professor Binns simply blinked rather dazedly and stopped his lecture to float back through the wall from which he came. The students blinked sleep from their eyes as soon as he left and yawned and stretched themselves back to the world of the alert and conscious.

Draco raised his head from where he'd laid it on his forearms, when he had succumbed to Professor Binns' voice. A strand of blond hair was defying the very laws of gravity by sticking almost straight up, and his eyes were half closed as he ran his fingers absentmindedly through his gelled hair, mussing it up completely. Beside him, Pansy looked at the blond and snickered. Harry leant over and pushed the stubborn strand back to its original place and Draco gave a sleepy smile of thanks,

There wasn't enough time to speak to Alex between classes, so Harry just tugged on his younger twin's sleeve as he passed. "Wait by the Great Hall for me at lunch?"

Alex nodded and left the classroom with his redheaded companion.

Harry consulted his schedule. "Charms next. Anyone know where that is?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The tiny little very much opaque and _alive _Charms professor, thank Merlin, had a perfectly normal voice despite his size and was standing on a pile of books in the front of the class. He introduced himself as Professor Fitwick before taking attendance. He'd started class with a short lecture on the origin and dangers of charms, which the class had to take notes on, and then demonstrated a levitation charm by making a stack of scrolls zoom around the classroom to the delight of the students. When the bell for the end of the the first half of the class rung, the tiny professor flicked his wand and a piece of chalk wrote out a word on the blackboard.

"Can anybody tell me what would happen if I were to perform the charm which this incantation is for?" Professor Flitwick asked.

A moment passed.

"Well we _can_, but shall we?" a voice sneered from the back. A few students tittered and the Charms professor sighed.

Harry raised his hand.

"Yes, Harold?" the white-haired professor said.

"Harry. The wand-lighting charm, lumos, will produce a bright white light from the witch or wizard's wand tip, provided that they cast the spell correctly. The counter charm to it is the wand-extinguishing charm, nox."

Professor Flitwick looked a bit stunned at Harry's educated response. "A point to Slytherin." he eventually conceded. Draco flashed Harry a pleased grin and the dark-haired snake felt warm and fuzzy. _I'm making my house proud!_

After being taught the incantation and movement, the class was _finally_ allowed to actually touch their wands use them to attempt the spell.

"Lumos." Harry intoned lazily with a flick of his wand. It lit up, of course, and he gently tapped Pansy's nose, making her go a little cross-eyed when she tried to look at it. _Practice pays off._

"Oh stop showing off." the brunette grumbled, batting Harry's wand away from her face. "Not everyone knows the spell perfectly."

Harry grinned. "Ah, so you're admitting that my knowledge of the spell is perfect?" he said in a singsong voice. Pansy humphed haughtily and went back to practicing, conceding defeat.

The green-eyed Slytherin turned back to Draco, who was also having a bit of trouble with his spell. His wand tip was _glowing_, at least, though it was so faint that it barely mattered.

"Nox." Draco muttered, and the light obligingly vanished. "Well," he sighed, "I can _extinguish_ this well enough. The problem is actually creating something to extinguish!"

"Here," Harry said, "do the spell. Show me."

"Alright." Draco shrugged. "Lumos!"

The tip of the blond's wand sparked after a short pause and glowed a muted white light.

"See?" he grumbled.

Harry smiled softly. "Your wand movement's a little off." the dark-haired boy extinguished his own wand and proffered his right arm. "Follow my movements."

Harry repeated the wand movement and incantation, a lot slower. The resulting light was a bit dimmer than what he had before, due to the improper slowing of the incantation, but it was still far brighter than Draco's.

The blond pouted.

"Your wand movement, which was supposed to be a circle, was more of a squashed oval than anything," Harry commented. " most likely because your wrist was a bit too fast when matched with your incantation."

Draco repeated the charm to a slight bit of success. The light that his wand was giving off had brightened, but it was still fairly dim.

"You're getting there." the dark-haired boy encouraged. "You're pronouncing it slightly incorrectly, though. It's not **lu**MISS, it's **lu**MOSS. "Moss", as in the fuzzy plant." Harry paused, leaning forward to grasp Draco's wrist. "How about you say the incantation and I'll move your wand correctly?"

The blond snake nodded.

"Alright? Say it."

"**Lu**mos."

Harry moved Draco's wrist in a perfect circular loop just as the blond repeated the incantation and the tip of Draco's wand immediately glowed a brilliant white just as Harry let go of his wrist. Pansy, who was watching, clapped and the blond grinned.

"Nox. Thanks, Harry! I think I've got it now. Lumos!"

Draco's wand glowed with almost the same intensity as before.

"That was brilliant, Draco! Just a bit more practice and it'll be perfect." Harry grinned. "Lumos." he held his own lit wand out towards the blond. "Now we match!"

Professor Flitwick passed by their table. "5 points to Slytherin for two successful spells."

Then, someone in the back screamed. Harry whipped his head around to the source of the sound.

An overweight gorilla-like boy had somehow managed to set himself on fire while casting the charm. It was flickering rapidly along his robes and had spread to the wooden surface of his desk as he frantically tried to put it out with his textbook. Professor Flitwick hurried there as fast as he could with his short legs.

"Aguamenti!" the tiny wizard shouted, and a thick stream of water flowed out of the tip of his wand and onto the boy.

It put out the fire, yes, but it left the unfortunate child looking a bit like a drowned animal.

"Practice your spells while I take him to the hospital wing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked as he escorted the slightly burnt boy out of the door.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"Crabbe. Our fathers know each other." Draco replied. "He's not the most... _intelligent_ of people."

Pansy sniggered.

"Have you gotten the spell yet, _Pandora_?" Harry teased.

The brunette sighed and hit him with her lit wand in reply.

* * *

**A/N:** I keep writing "blond" as "blind" and that makes for some interesting sentences when proofreading.

My muse has been mostly absent for the past few days, so I haven't been writing as much as I used to, sadly. I do hope they'll return soon.

I had a lot of fun writing half asleep Harry!

_Question time has been removed due to them already been answered bla bla etc_

Transfiguration is next, followed shortly by lunch, Herbology, and Defence Against Dark Arts.

Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 8: Weasley

Chapter 8

* * *

The trio bravely traversed the dangerous and occasionally moving staircases of Hogwarts in order to make it to their next class, Transfiguration, on time. Draco and Pansy wisely did not offer to let Harry lead them, otherwise they would probably have ended up on the complete opposite side of the castle, knowing the dark-haired boy's atrocious sense of direction.

Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration Professor, begun her class with a lecture and a word of caution.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." she had said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Harry had rolled his eyes. He'd known that already, of course. All the textbooks had warned against the very same things. _Anyone who doesn't take magic seriously probably doesn't deserve to have it to begin with._

She changed her desk into a squealing pig and back before it could run around the classroom and upset the piles of scrolls that had been meticulously organised on top of it. The Slytherins couldn't wait to begin learning.

But.

She'd made them take notes. _Notes_. Extensively detailed ones too, on things that were already covered by the textbook. Harry's wrist had started to stiffen up before she finally flicked her wand to open a box of matches, sending one to each student.

"You will be turning the match into a needle. Do not attempt to light the match. The incantation is 'Acus' and you need only to point your wand at the match and say the incantation. Begin."

Harry grinned. He'd mostly focused on the Charms textbook during the summer, but transfiguring a match into a needle probably wouldn't be that hard, right?

_Wrong_.

So very very wrong.

It had been a full ten minutes since then and Harry still hadn't been able to do anything to his match aside. The green-eyed boy pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed.

"Do you think this patch is turning a bit more silver than the rest, or am I just delusional?" Harry asked, sliding his match over to the blond sitting beside him.

Draco glanced over. "You're delusional."

Harry sighed, retrieving his match again. "Acus!"

Nothing happened.

_Alright. I need to reconsider my strategy._

_Transfiguration books always emphasise having an image of the object before attempting the actual spell. Meditation might help. I could imagine the needle in detail that way. _Harry glanced at the clock. _No. Don't have enough time right now, there's only about 15 minutes left of this class– not even enough time to fully begin clearing my mind. _His eyes wandered to his piece of parchment with notes and doodles lining the margins. _Drawing? Drawing works, my quill's certainly fine enough to add all the finer details. I could use the drawing to visualise the needle I want to create._

Pansy looked confusedly at Harry when he put his wand down and got a spare piece of parchment from his bag, but he gestured at her to continue practicing. He chewed absentmindedly on the end of his quill as he considered the important aspects of the needle he wanted to transfigure.

A large eye or a small eye? Long or short? Any added details?

The dark-haired snake lowered his head and hastily begun sketching the basic outline.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

With the visual reference, it was so much easier for Harry to create an image in his mind. With the image, theoretically, it would make the actual process of transfiguration go a lot faster. Harry hoped it would, at any rate. Otherwise, he had just wasted precious time for nothing more than the knowledge that art and Transfiguration didn't go together as well as he'd hoped.

The raven-haired Slytherin closed his eyes tightly, trying to imagine the needle with the most amount of detail he possibly could.

_The needle has a large eye. Like the grains of rice that mother keeps in jars in the kitchen. There's a snake design coiling around the needle etched into its surface. Like Eris. Silver. Silver like the Slytherin house crest that hangs above the exit of the common room. Silver like the moving pictures of the Patronus Charm that adorned the covers of so many Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks. Silver. Large. Snake._

The green-eyed child breathed a deep breath in and pointed his wand at the match.

"Acus."

By the end of class, only the trio of Harry, Draco, and Pansy had managed to fully transfigure their matches into needles. Another girl, Tracey something, had gotten extremely close. Her match had turned silvery and pointy on one end and she appeared very pleased when Professor McGonagall congratulated her.

Professor McGonagall had enlarged Harry's needle and showed the class, pointing out how each scale on the coiling snake design was fairly defined before awarding Slytherin 15 points and Harry a smile.

The dark-haired boy had gloated all the way to the Great Hall until Draco covered his mouth and Pansy swung her book bag and lightly hit him in the stomach. They reached the massive double doors and Harry parted from the blond and brunette to wait for his twin there, like they had agreed after History of Magic.

The green-eyed boy leant against the adjacent wall and scoured the unfamiliar faces of those in the crowd for the familiar glasses and mop of hair. A gaggle of students started whispering intensely when they saw him.

Then, Harry saw the familiar pair of glasses and he grinned.

"Lex!" the Slytherin called, and the twin obligingly looked his way. He was surrounded by people, the redhead from the train being one of them; they seemed to have begun a friendship. Harry frowned a bit at that as he made his way towards them.

"You go on ahead." Alex was saying to his companions. "Start eating without me and I'll find you after."

They left, but the redhead glanced at Harry with narrowed eyes. "I think I'll stay with you."

The brown-eyed twin shrugged. "Fine by me." he said. Then, turning to his older twin, "Harry, my friend Ron Weasley. Ron, this is my twin, Harry."

Harry nodded courteously at Alex's companion and extended an arm in offer of a handshake. "Hullo."

The redhead sneered and made no effort to take it. Harry dropped his hand back to his side again, slightly offended.

Harry sighed. _I do wish he'd keep better company._

"How was your first night?" the older twin began, turning to Alex.

"It was pretty cool." the brown eyed boy replied. "I'm dorming with Ron and three other guys our year."

Harry nodded. "How have your classes been?"

"They're sort of hard," Alex said, scrunching up his nose for emphasis, "but I think I'll be alright. What about you? "

"I quite like Transfiguration, from the little I've seen of it, though I can't wait for Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions." the older twin replied.

Ronald rolled his eyes and Harry turned to him with a questioning expression.

"Of course you would like that class." the redhead jeered.

"What do you mean?" the green-eyed twin queried, slightly peeved by the Weasley's derisive tone.

"Though, I suppose you like the 'Dark Arts' portion more than the 'Defence'," the ginger continued, "seeing as you're a Slytherin."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "And that means?..."

"Junior Death Eaters, the lot of you. There wasn't a single bad wizard that didn't come from Slytherin. Though, what Alex did to deserve a sibling, much less a _twin_ like you..." Ronald trailed off with a mocking snort of laughter.

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Harry–" Alex started, but stopped with a wave from his redheaded friend's hand.

Ronald sneered. "Threatening me? Merlin knows you lot can't do much else. All talk and no action. I bet you're going to go crying to–"

"Engorgio Skullus!" Harry snarled. A green light shot out of the tip of his wand. As the Slytherin watched, a smirk adorning his lips, Weasley's head started swelling larger and larger like a balloon that was slowly having air pumped into it.

"Harry!" Alex exclaimed. When his sibling didn't respond, he tried again. "Harry! I'll go and find a teacher if you don't stop it right now!"

Harry didn't pay attention to him, choosing to rather focus on Ron. The redhead was opening and closing his mouth rapidly, doing something like a poor impersonation of a fish while frantically patting his head with both his hands.

"All bark and no bite? Us Slytherins? Well I'll be damned; I honestly had no idea." Harry sneered, stepping closer to the panicked Gryffindor. The weasel shrunk back and the Slytherin felt a dark sense of satisfaction.

A crowd had started to gather. At Harry's last comment, several people snickered.

"Forgotten how to speak? _Snake_ got your tongue?" the green-eyed boy laughed derisively. "Actually, now that I think about it... You're a lot more pleasant when you can't say anything. _Ssssilencio_."

Harry scanned the faces of the crowd quickly. Nobody gave any indication that they noticed him slipping into Parseltongue to whisper to spell.

With a satisfied smirk, he continued. "It looks like your ego is a little too _big_ for your own good, huh? Better get your head looked at. We wouldn't want any more _accidents_ like this happening again, right?"

Weasley's head had swollen to where it had become too heavy for his spindly legs to hold up. Fixated in place by its weight, the Gryffindor had toppled over with a soft thump. Lying on the floor, unable to speak, he continued trying to formulate words, contorting his features into exaggerated expressions in the process.

Harry smirked, his anger fuelled by the redhead's horror-struck look. "Poor little Weasley..." Harry paused in his speech for emphasis. "But that's right, isn't it? **Poor** little Weasley. Is that why you dislike us snakes so much? Because our mummies and daddies buy us pretty things and yours can't? Or, perhaps it's because your iddle biddle brain doesn't like it when others are smarter than it." the Slytherin inclined his head towards the Gryffindor's own enlarged one. Ron's expression had turned into one of rage at the comments, though his eyes still remained panicked and fearful.

Harry idly twirled his wand around in his hand while coldly looking at his victim lying on the ground. "But, I fixed how little your brain is, didn't I? Maybe, now, you'll finally have more sense than to pick fights with a _snake_." The weasel's eyes narrowed and his mouth opened and closed rapidly, forming soundless words, most likely threats of sorts. However, being of gangly stature and average height, not to mention possessing an exceedingly large head, the redhead's attempt at intimidation looked more amusing than anything.

There was a commotion around the edge of the gathered crowd. A familiar head of black hair pushed his way back towards Harry and Ron. _Alex_.

"Harry! Stop it!" his twin shouted. His voice was tense and his brows knitted together.

"Of course," the older sibling scoffed, "I should've known that you'd take the side of some bigoted plebeian over your own twin."

Alex shook his head. "Stop it. I called a teacher. She'll be here soon."

"Oh, you too? Going to threaten me as well? Or maybe you'll just stop listening to me altogether. Is being a Slytherin so incredibly terrible and horrific that you can't even bear to associate with me anymore? Why do you take his side over mine? Have I actually done anything that wasn't actually warranted? No." Harry snarled.

"He's lashed out at me for something that I had absolutely no control over, made asinine assumptions about me based on nothing but his own discriminatory views and just generally refused to see any reason other than what his own bigoted little mind has conjured. And, what's his reason? Because I'm a Slytherin?

"Don't Slytherins have blood that runs as red as a Gryffindor's? Are we not warmed by the same sun and cooled by the same moon, dampened by the same rains and chilled by the same winters? Don't we eat the same foods, crave the same respect, and feel the same emotions, be it joy, hatred, courage or spite? If you anger us, wouldn't we, the Slytherins, retaliate, just like any Gryffindor would? If you strike us, do you just expect us to just lie there and take it like a gormless COWARD?" Harry's voice rose louder and louder. Thin scarlet crescents had formed on his palms from where his nails dug into them in rage. His chest hurt. His head hurt. His throat hurt. When he breathed in, it felt like there was something pushing against his ribcage from outside, stopping him from drawing in anything larger than short, shallow bursts of air. His vision had become blurry around the edges and, as he blinked he could feel twin trails of liquid running over his cheeks. _Why can't you keep better company, Lex?_

"Your ignorant little minds should know better than to think that something a bloody HAT said would change who we were." The Slytherin spat.

Alex's expression was a look of shock mixed with a traces of anger. _It almost looks like he was betrayed, instead of me._ When their eyes met, the younger twin turned his head away towards his Gryffindor friend.

Harry's swallowed hard but refused to duck his head or wipe at his eyes.

"Out of the way." a voice snapped, and the green-eyed boy turned his head towards it just as the crowd obediently shifted to allow the Slytherin Head of house through. Professor Snape's eyes narrowed when they landed on the three first years.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for fighting in the halls." the professor sneered immediately, looking at the hexed redhead. A few students in the crowd groaned. "Take him to the hospital wing."

A plump lady had pushed her way through the crowd while the Slytherin professor was speaking. She was huffing and puffing, no doubt from having trouble keeping up with the energetic Alex. Harry assumed she was the matron of Hogwarts, from her outfit. As the Slytherin watched, the weasel, with the help of Alex and the healer lady made their way away, through the crowd. Alex left without giving Harry without a backwards glance.

The group of students watching the show begun dispersing, sensing that nothing more would happen.

Professor Snape's eyes fell on Harry, who was still holding his wand, though he had dropped his arm back down to his side. They faced each other unblinking for a few moments and the boy defiantly tilted his chin up and stared back.

"Potter."

Harry nodded apprehensively.

"As a Slytherin student, please limit such... _interactions_ to areas with less people."

Although the sentence was stated as a request, the tone of voice indicated that it was anything but.

Then, the corner of the professor's mouth twitched and something akin to pride flashed in his eyes.

"And five points to Slytherin for excellent spellwork."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I heard you hexed a Gryffindor." Draco commented as he delicately swallowed his bite of chicken.

_News sure travels fast._

"In front of the Great Hall as well." Pansy added with a smirk. "I'm not sure whether to call you an idiot or a hero."

"The former. Heroes don't exist in the truest sense of the word." Harry mumbled.

"Don't be such a pessimist." Draco said flippantly with a wave of his hand. "If I know you at all, I'd say he probably had it coming to him."

"Did his head really get bigger than his body?" Pansy asked eagerly.

"It only really reached the size of his upper torso, though the matron still had to help Alex take him to the hospital wing."

The brunette nodded with a pleased look on her face. "Good."

"I could lend you a few spellbooks from the Malfoy library if you want, Harry," Draco chimed in, "especially since you seem to be better at spells than I am. It wouldn't be imposing on us at all, as they're just sitting there at the moment, since mother and father have already read them."

"I'd like that." Harry said with a soft smile at the blond.

They continued eating in comfortable silence that was occasionally broken with requests of "pass the butter, Pansy." and "where did the pepper go?"

A hand tapped Harry on the shoulder just as he put his cutlery down, intending to snag a bread roll. A pair of friendly smiles greeted him as he turned around in his seat.

"Hi." one of the girls said. She had blue black hair tied into twin pigtails on either side of her head and a grin that showed straight white teeth.

"Hello." Harry replied cautiously.

"We saw what you did to that Gryffindor and decided to come over here to applaud you. That looked like quite a complicated hex; it's amazing you could cast it as well as you did." the other said. Her wavy hair was light, though not as unnaturally blond as Draco's. She too was smiling and, though not as wide as the first girl's, it was still warm and friendly.

"Thank you." Harry said, and returned their smiles with a small one of his own.

"I'm Tracey Davis, by the way." the dark-haired girl grinned.

"And I'm Daphne Greengrass." the blonde girl added.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Nothing remotely interesting had happened during Herbology, which was the class after lunch. Although it was Autumn, the time of the year when the air is generally kissed with a tiny bit of chill, the greenhouse was extremely warm. The dumpy, smiling professor introduced herself as Professor Sprout and spent the rest of the class referring to Harry as "Harold, dear." or "Harold, sweetpea." whenever she called on him to answer anything. The Slytherin wondered if she became a Herbology teacher simply because of her surname or if it was simply an amusing coincidence.

Then, as the bell rang, Harry realised that the day was almost finished. Only one more class left and the first years could proudly say that they had survived their first day relatively unscathed.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was originally on the third floor, but it had to be moved that year because the Third Floor Corridor was out of bounds. Thankfully, the new location was a lot closer to the greenhouses, which meant that it was fairly easy for the Slytherin first years to navigate themselves there after Herbology had ended.

The DADA classroom smelt of garlic. Lots and lots of it. It invaded every nook and cranny of the room and Harry was sure that he would emerge from the classroom with the scent permanently etched into his mind. Why learn vampire-repelling charms and spells when one could just spend 40 minutes in the DADA classroom and have the horrible scent soak into your clothing, possibly refusing to come out forever? The green-eyed boy could feel a light throbbing begin at his temple before he had even sat down. Next to him, Pansy pinched her nose with an offended expression.

"I think we'll need to learn the Bubble-Head Charm if we're to get through the year unscathed." Draco muttered, glaring at the turbaned professor as he sat down.

"My olfactory senses won't even survive the class unscathed." Pansy grumbled.

Harry tried to breathe through his mouth. It didn't help.

Less than a minute before class was to start, the Gryffindors burst through the door. Extremely loudly. Alex glanced at his twin with a wary look while Weasley openly scowled at Harry, his head back to its normal size.

Just as the newly-arrived lions sat down, the bell rung for the beginning of class and Professor Quirrell stood up from his desk and made his way in front of the blackboard.

"G-Good afternoon, c-class." he began, fidgeting with the piece of chalk he held in his hand. "I aam your p-p-professor, Professor Q-Quirrell."

Said teacher fidgeted a lot and looked generally terrified of anything and everything in the classroom. He shifted from foot to foot as he was taking roll call and nearly fell over when he reached Alex's name, shakily righting himself with a cough.

"B-before I begin," Professor Quirrell began, "I w-w-would just like to c-clear up any m-m-misconceptions about the D-Dark Arts." He cleared his throat and continued, his voice slightly more confident than before. "There is n-nothing inherently _evil_ about dark magic, despite its m-misleading name."

A shocked murmur went through the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Professor Quirrell ignored it. "In fact, magic does not take sides. There is no such thing as 'good' m-magic, nor is there such thing as 'evil' m-magic. The only d-difference between dark and light m-magic is _power_, b-both the amount of p-power required to c-cast it, and the amount of power it g-gives the caster over whatever or w-whomever it is casted on, the only exception being spells to deter 'dark' creatures, like the Patronus Charm. W-While they fit both categories that the M-Ministry considers when assigning a ss-pell a 'dark' status, the fact that they are used against d-dark c-creatures makes them a neutral spell or a 'l-light' spell."

"But, professor, what about Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, or any of the Unforgivables for that matter?" a voice piped up.

Professor Quirrell nodded, unfazed by the sudden interruption. "A g-good question, Miss Granger, but please w-wait for me to call on you before you s-speak." Then, addressing the class, he continued. "Take the k-killing c-curse. It can be used to p-provide a quick and painless death for t-those who are s-suffering from incurable ailments. In the m-muggle world, the equivalent of healer-assisted s-suicide is becoming more and m-more popular. The C-Cruiciatus C-Curse can be used during w-wartimes, to gain valuable information from the opposing s-side. Even during duels, it can be useful to use p-pain to gain an advantage. Yes, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked between Alex and the professor, unsure of who he was referring to, since both twins' hands were raised in the air.

"Alex." Professor Quirrell clarified with a nervous cough.

"Isn't it possible to torture someone to insanity? How would a spell like that not be evil?"

"Again, Alex. M-Magic does not take sides. In fact, during the First W-Wizarding War, all three Unforgivables w-were legalised for the Aurors to use against the opposing s-side. I assume you all k-know of the t-tickling charm?" the professor paused to assess the class' response. "Well, it is also p-possible to _tickle_ someone to insanity. Indeed, it is used as a form of t-torture. Why is it not b-banned by the M-Ministry with a lifetime s-sentence in Azkaban to any and all found p-practicing it? Because it d-does not require _power_ to cast. Indeed, there really isn't such t-thing as good and evil, only p-power." he continued.

Harry smirked. Any old and respected book could tell them that, though the Gryffindors seemed genuinely ignorant of those simple things. It was quite amusing to watch them.

"As for the Imperious C-Curse, it can be used to s-save lives. Say, a person with severe aquaphobia, the f-fear of water, w-was in danger and they had to c-cross a river to get to s-safety. The usage of the Imperious C-Curse c-could allow them to swim to a s-safe location on the other bank." Each time Professor Quirrell ended his sentence, his voice always became slightly higher, making him seem like he was constantly questioning his own words.

Harry had never thought that the phrase "scared of one's own shadow" could actually be applied literally but, by the time the bell rung for the end of the lesson, he felt that he'd definitely been proved otherwise.

Thankfully, Harry's headache had lessened considerably after class had ended and the Slytherin first years had left the classroom _extremely_ far behind them.

"I'm never going to be able to eat garlic again." The green-eyed snake groaned. He delicately sniffed at his sleeve and scrunched up his nose; the pungent odour had managed to permeate the fabric of his robe.

"Forget vampire-repelling properties," Draco huffed, "this smell could probably gas anything to death if they breathed it in for long enough."

Those who heard the blond nodded silently in agreement.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The plush carpets in the Slytherin common room and dorms muffled the sounds of footsteps, creating a quiet and comforting environment for the students to work in. Some older students had already set up study areas around the fireplace when the first years arrived.

Eris hissed happily as Draco and Harry stepped into their dormitory. The raven-haired boy brightened upon seeing her.

_"Hello, Eriss. I missssed my beautiful little companion. How wass your day?"_ Harry crooned, opening the vivarium. Eris slithered along his extended arm and settled into her usual spot on his shoulders, giving a quick nod of acknowledgement to Draco.

_"I wasss sstuck in a glasss terrarium for the entirety of it. How do you think it wasss?"_ Eris replied wryly.

Harry chuckled.

_"The housssse elvess brought me live mice to eat. I like them. They knew that I don't like having my food killed for me."_

Harry smiled. _"And I was worried about how to keep you filled without buying a mousssse cage to houssssse your food. The housssse elvesss do their job well."_

Eris smiled back. _"How wassss your firssst day, Harry?"_ she inquired.

Harry shrugged, careful not to accidentally dislodge the black mamba in the process. _"Mosstly uneventful, to be honesssst."_

_"Mossssstly?"_

The boy sighed. _"Alex hasss made ssssome unfortunate decissionss regarding hiss friendssshipss."_

Eris cocked her head expectantly.

_"Hissss... Friend, Ronald Weasssley, hasssss an extreme hatred for the Sssslytherinss. I fear that he may brainwasssh Alex to think the ssssame."_

The black mamba made sympathetic-sounding noises. _"Do you intend to do ssssomething about it?"_ she asked.

_"I'll try talk to Alex on hisss own sssometime,"_ Harry decided after a bit of consideration, _"perhapssss he'll lissten to me better when the weasssel isss not around."_

Eris nodded.

There was a comfortable pause in the conversation where the Slytherin absentmindedly petted his companion's head.

_"I tried ussing the ssssnake tongue to cassst a sspell thissss day."_ Harry began again.

_"Wasss it ssssuccessfull?"_

_"It wasss. The sspell wass sssstronger and eassssier, jusssst like you ssaid it would be. I could probably casst a lot more advanced ssspellss thisss way."_

_"I'm proud of you, little one."_ Eris hissed. She nuzzled Harry's neck affectionately. It tickled, and the Slytherin laughed, gently batting her head away.

The dorm door opened and Draco walked in clad in a white dressing gown, rigorously rubbing at his hair with a fluffy towel.

"Shower's free if you want, Harry." The blond said, when his eyes landed on his roommate. "They're pretty decent, even by pureblooded standards."

Harry decided to let the pureblood comment slide, both since it wasn't said in a malicious manner, and also because he was busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous Draco looked in his dressing gown.

_"Hello, blondie."_ Eris hissed cheekily.

Harry cuffed her gently on the head with a laugh. _"Oi."_

"What did Eris say?"

The dark-haired boy froze. "Eh."

"Oh stop it." Draco rolled his eyes. "It's unbecoming of someone your intelligence."

Harry chuckled. "I'm not sure what flattery has to do with the current situation."

"Hush, translator, do your duties." Draco grinned back.

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* * *

**A/N:** I'm so so so so so extremely sorry for not updating for so long! I just ran out of inspiration and I couldn't churn out anything at all, so I decided to take a break to plan this fic out some more. Though, do not fear! This story is always in my thoughts– I shan't forget about it anytime soon! Today is the 31 of July, so I must wish our favourite adorable protagonist a happy birthday as well!

Harry's relationship with Alex is slowly crumbling. Poor poor Harry; can't his twin choose better friends? The beginnings of what will be a long-lasting animosity has surfaced this chapter! Ron will be to my Harry what Draco was to Rowling's, only... without the sexual tension. ( ^o^) (That was a joke.) (Please don't hurt me.)

Kudos to anyone who may or may not have noticed the shameless parallel to Shylock's speech from The Merchant of Venice! I couldn't figure out how to add a link to the original that Shakespeare wrote, but typing "Shylock's speech Merchant of Venice" into Google should help you find it.

The spell I made up,"Acus", is literally Latin for "needle", just in case anyone was wondering. If it's incorrect, please inform me! (I usually check at least two websites to be sure but everyone knows that the Internet lies)

In other news, the Potter cat (née Mopsy) has been renamed Flopsy, and this fic has officially surpassed 90 followers! I'd like to send each and every one of you little fluffy stuffed toys of Draco, probably, or Harry, since they're my favourite two characters, but I'm sort of poor as heck due to my inability to resist buying books so I can only continue updating this story as thanks. Just know that you have my love and eternal gratitude. ❤

_Questions removed, yadda yadda_

As always, if you have anything to add or any suggestions, let me know!


	10. Chapter 9: The Kitchens

Chapter 9

* * *

"I still can't believe your snake called me 'blondie'."

"Oh stop whining, Draco." Harry shot back with a playful grin. The trio's footsteps echoed along the length of the corridor as they made their way through the dungeon maze, guided by the flickering lights of the torches lining the walls.

"It's sort of fitting, come to think of it. We should make that your new nickname." Pansy mused with a smirk.

Draco sighed heavily and dramatically. "Traitors, the both of you, I swear. Let this be the last time I call you my friends."

"Friends?" Harry echoed, his voice soft. He'd allowed himself to hope, though he was normally a pessimist, but he hadn't actually thought that they'd think the same. _Friends_.

"Well, yes." Pansy smiled. "Of course we're friends. That is, unless you don't want to be, though you probably wouldn't associate us for so long if you didn't."

Harry blinked and felt a wide smile stretch across his face. "It's just that, well, I haven't actually had a real and proper friend before, aside from Alex."

"You poor little darling." Pansy murmured.

"Though, I honestly haven't had a lot of opportunities to make friends. I just sit and read in places with no people during the gatherings." Harry continued

"And that's how I found you!" Pansy interjected with a grin.

Draco smiled wryly. "Perhaps I should have taken more time away from the trays of chocoballs in order to to search around those areas, then."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Of course you would get distracted by something like that."

Draco lightly elbowed her in retaliation.

The trio turned a corner and Eris' tongue flicked out, scenting the air. _"I can sssmell chocolate cake."_ she remarked. _"And vanilla cusssstard."_

"She said something to do with chocolate!" Draco immediately exclaimed after the black mamba had finished speaking– Harry had taught him how to say "chocolate cauldrons" on the Hogwarts Express. "Was I correct?"

Harry grinned "You're learning fast, it seems. She said she could smell vanilla custard and cake, of the chocolate variety."

Pansy cocked her head to one side. "It's almost dinnertime, perhaps she's smelling the dessert?"

The dark-haired boy nodded again. "I'll ask her if she can show us where it's coming from. Perhaps, we could find the kitchens." He turned his head towards Eris. _"Could you follow the sssscent to itsss sssssource?"_

Eris replied in the affirmative, so the trio set off down the corridor in the direction she pointed them in. After a few minutes of walking, they turned down a better-lit hallway and she jabbed her tail in the direction of a solid stone wall with a paintings lining either side of it.

_"The ssssmell'ss coming from there."_ the black mamba hissed, jabbing her tail in the direction of a still life depicting a fruit bowl.

"I sort of expected something more... extravagant." Pansy laughed. "How do we get in?"

Draco shrugged, leaning his back against the wall. "Well, it's a little after four right now, and dinner starts at six, so we have a bit of time before we're needed anywhere. I need to write a letter to my parents, and I'm fairly sure the both of you need to as well, so we should aim to be on our way back to the Slytherin common rooms at about five."

"Sounds about right." Pansy said, inspecting the bricks on either side of the painting.

"Of course I'm right, who do you even take me for?" The blond muttered.

Harry stared at the wall, then he focused on the paintings on the wall. _Unlike the Diagon Alley entrance through the Leaky Cauldron, the paintings on this wall significantly reduce the amount of wall space that could be used for a tap-with-wand-to-open entrance, which would make it easier to guess which brick was the one tied to the detection charms. Since that would pose a security risk, and also because nobody would go to the trouble of concealing something if opening it was that easy, it would have to be the paintings. There were a multitude of ways to use paintings to conceal things; the Gryffindor common room, for example, was guarded by a portrait of a chubby lady._

The more Harry stared, the more he could feel the edges of his vision slightly blurring. The painting of the bowl of fruit seemed brighter than the rest of the hall for some reason.

"Hold on, Pansy." he murmered, gently pressing on her shoulder in an unspoken request for her to move to one side. When she did so, he held his hand out to the painting, palm and splayed fingers almost parallel to its surface. There was a slight hum of _magic_ coming from it. He could identify what the feeling of magic was now, unlike in Ollivander's wand shop, after being surrounded by it none-stop for almost full day. If he could find the source of it, he would be one step closer to figuring out how to enter the kitchen.

As he scanned his hand slowly over the painting, staring at it all the while, one area seemed to be brighter than the he moved his hand over it, the answering buzz against his skin confirmed what he had thought: that the hum of magic he had felt around the painting earlier originated from that one area.

"The entrance has something to do with the pear on the painting." Harry murmured.

"Are you sure?" Pansy asked.

"Absolutely. I can feel the magic and it's only noticeably emanating from that area. Of course, the whole school's essentially made of magic, so I can feel all of those things too, but this feels different."

_"Well done, little one."_ Eris hissed, gently nuzzling Harry's cheek.

"Alright." Draco said, stepping away from the wall and towards Harry. He stood next to the dark-haired boy and surveyed the painting. "How do we go about doing this?"

"Well," Harry began, "since this is in a school, and they haven't explicitly told us to stay away from it, it probably means that it won't injure us if we approach it wrong. So, really, we could theoretically try all the possibilities until we reach the correct one."

"It might be password-activated, though." Pansy mused. "We could be here for a pretty long time if it was."

"Well then we'll just have to hope it isn't." Draco surmised.

Harry lightly ran his fingers over the painted pear and the magic seemed to arch up into his touch while simultaneously becoming brighter, humming softly along his palm.

"Maybe we have to... stroke it?" The green-eyed Slytherin thought out loud. "It's responsive to my touch."

"Perhaps." Draco replied. "The castle certainly has a sense of humour."

_Humour_. Harry's hand dropped to his side

"Humour." The dark-haired boy echoed, his mind whirring.

"That's what I said." Draco stated.

"No no no, _humour_." Harry said again, slowly, as if speaking to a child. At his companions' puzzled faces, he elaborated. "Stroking the painting wouldn't be specific enough for the creator. If the entrance opened to anyone who touched it, than it wouldn't be secure, since any accidental touch could open it. But, your comment got me thinking. What's a more continual form of touch?"

There was a pregnant pause.

Harry huffed at the lack of response. "Tickling!"

There was another pause.

Pansy shrugged.

"That idea's so absurd that it might actually work." Draco eventually conceded with a laugh.

"Well, there's a one hundred percent chance we'll fail if we don't try." Harry concluded, reaching forward again. He gently ran his finger along the surface of the pear, feeling the tiny ridges where the paint wasn't evenly distributed by the strokes of the artist's paintbrush, and repeated it again and again when the magic responded by humming brighter and brighter. Then, the pear squirmed and giggled, abruptly turning into a lime green doorknob. Harry heard Pansy's shocked intake of breath as he reached forward tentatively and twisted it, pulling the painting backwards.

It opened smoothly, like a door, though Harry supposed it was one of sorts. The dark-haired child cautiously peered inside.

The kitchens were enormous, with mounds upon mounds of cooking pots and pans, as well as all the crockery that Harry could name and quite a few he couldn't. He could see quite a few little creatures with enormous ears and eyes almost as large hiding behind various articles of furniture, appropriately sized for their heights and he bent down a little so as not to tower over them.

One of those house elves bravely shuffled forward.

"How can Dipsy help the young master and his companions?" It squeaked.

"I'm Harry, and these are my... friends, Pansy, Draco, and Eris." Harry smiled, gesturing to each individual in turn. "Don't worry about Eris, the snake, she's really sweet and I promise she won't harm any of you."

A few more house elves shuffled out from behind the multitude of counters and cooking implements with curious expressions on their faces. Although they still stayed relatively far away, they seemed less cautious than they were just a few moments ago.

Pansy and Draco walked through the doorway as well and stood on either side of Harry, eyes wide as they looked around.

"Well, what could we ask you all for help with?" Harry queried.

"We is cleaning things! We can also bring food for yous!" Dipsy beamed. "We house elves is making food all the time!"

"We is also fixing things!" a voice piped up from behind a counter.

"We is also fixing things!" Dipsy repeated with a grin. "If yous be needing any help with fixing things, yous can ask us!"

"Thank you, Dipsy." Harry said, his smile growing larger at the sheer amount of energy that the house elf posessed.

"It's almost dinnertime." Pansy commented.

"We can do what we want, I'm fairly sure. The professors didn't say anything about meals in the Great Hall being mandatory, so I'm going to eat in my room. I've had enough social interaction for today, I reckon." Harry decided.

"He has a point. We could do some reading ahead in our dorms tonight and get more done without wasting time getting lost on the way to the Great Hall and back." Draco added.

"Dipsy," the dark-haired boy said, bending down slightly, "do you have any chicken pot pie?"

"We has just finished baking more pies, Master Harry! Pies of every kind!" Dipsy squeaked enthusiastically.

"Well, then I'll have whatever type of salmon sushi there is available and some chocoballs." The blond boy beside Harry drawled.

"Of course, Master Draco!"

Pansy sighed dramatically, turning to Draco and Harry. "I'll forgo dinner in the Great Hall this evening in favour of dinner in your company. Don't expect it to happen too often." Facing Dipsy again, she looked thoughtful as she paused and looked around the kitchens. "I feel like soup today." She eventually said, after a bit of consideration. "Which types of soup do you have right now?"

"We is making all kinds of soup, Mistress Pansy!" Dipsy squeaked happily. "We is having French onion soup, tomato soup, chicken noodle soup, cream of broccoli soup, and much much more!"

"Could I have some chicken noodle soup with some bread, Dipsy?" Pansy asked sweetly.

"Of course, Mistress Pansy!"

"We is being very happy to help yous!" chorused a few house elves as they brought out three large baskets filled with food, placing them gently into their intended recipients' hands

"Will yous be needing anything else?" Dipsy inquired.

Draco looked at his watch. "We should probably head back, if nobody wants any more."

Pansy and Harry both nodded.

"Thank you, Dipsy, and all the other elves who helped prepare our meals." Harry concluded. "I'm sure they'll be delicious, like all the other meals we've had at Hogwarts thus far."

They exited the kitchen to happy squeaks of "Goodbye Masters and Mistress!" and "We hope yous will come back soon!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I'm drawing a map of the dungeons." Harry announced after the trio made their way back to the common room. The three had gotten lost a grand total of five times in the process.

"Great idea." Pansy agreed. "I'll lend you my erasable ink, for the planning. That is, only if you copy the finished product for me."

"I could help you with Herbology, if you want, " Draco offered, "in exchange for a copy as well."

Harry laughed. He had no idea how Draco knew that he couldn't interact well with plants in the physical part of the subject, considering how they never got to that stage in the class today, but he'd be happy with any help he could get.

"Thank you." The Potter twin said to both his _friends_. He'd gotten a lot more comfortable with using that word in the last hour or so, though he still felt a burst of warmth which he hoped would never go away whenever he thought about it. "I'd rather use my free time on Potions than reading about greenery."

The trio walked to Draco and Harry's room, intending on eating their dinner together.

"Harry." Draco said.

"Yes?"

"Stop swinging your basket, you'll upset the pie."

Harry nodded and obediently dropped his arm back to his side. "You're right. Thanks."

They reached their dorm room door and Harry went in first, holding the door open for the others. They both nodded their unspoken thanks as they passed and sat down on the absurdly fluffy carpet. Harry unravelled Eris from his shoulders and placed her gently back in her vivarium.

Unpacking his basket, Harry smiled when he saw that the house elf had packed a few of his favourite rolls as well as the pot pie that he'd asked for. Looking up, he saw Draco's eyes widen as he looked into his own basket.

"I asked for chocoballs, but I honestly hadn't expected this many!" The blond exclaimed with a laugh, showing Pansy and Harry the contents of his own packed dinner.

"Well, look on the bright side. If an army of dementors were to attack right this minute, you'd be able to come out relatively unscathed." Harry grinned, leaning forward to steal one for his own just as Pansy did the same.

"Oi." Draco protested weakly.

"Did you actually think you could eat all of that? 'Sides, you could always go to the kitchens for more if you want, now that we know how to get in." Pansy laughed, popping hers into her mouth.

Harry delicately bit into his and made a muffled noise of sheer bliss. The chocoball cracked as his teeth broke its thick chocolate shell surface and his mouth was almost immediately filled afterwards with a deliciously creamy and heavenly concoction of strawberry mousse and clotted cream. It felt like his insides had melted from the overload of deliciousness that they'd just received. The filling and the chocolate shell melted together in his mouth to form the perfect combination of absolute _perfection_.

"Harry?" Draco said, his tone showing his amusement.

Harry held a finger up to Draco's mouth, shushing him, before closing his eyes and biting into his chocoball again.

Draco waved his hand in front of Harry"s face but didn't even receive a blink in response.

Harry finished his chocoball and swallowed, his eyes still closed. "It's like angels have taken up residence on my tastebuds." He murmured.

"I think you broke him." Pansy giggled, looking at the dark-haired boy's blissed-out expression.

"This is _almost_ as good as pancakes." Harry said, licking his lips for any remaining traces of the chocolatey goodness.

"Almost?" Draco repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Yup." Harry replied, his hand darting forward to snag another chocoball.

The blond batted his hand away. "Let's agree to disagree about that."

Harry pouted but returned to his own dinner, spooning a generous amount of creamy chicken pot pie into his own mouth and sighing with happiness at the taste.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"We should head to the Library first, do our studying and letter-writing there, and then go to the Owlery to send them. Do you both have your own owls?" Draco said, after they'd both finished eating.

"Mhm." Pansy replied, her mouth filled with bread.

Harry nodded. "We could probably just leave our baskets here; the house elves clean our dorms daily– they'd get it back at any rate, and it would save us the trip back to the kitchens. I'll leave Eris as well, since she'll probably not be allowed in."

Draco and Pansy nodded.

"Now that we've decided that, the problem is actually _finding_ the library." The blond laughed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Hogwarts Library, when they actually got to it, was an enormous place filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves, each of them absolutely _filled_ with books of all shapes and sizes. There were books raging from the size of postage stamps to massive books the side of Harry's bed in his dorm room and... it was _heaven_.

Madame Pince, the librarian, would chase out anyone who made any noise above a hushed whisper, which made the quiet-loving Harry _very_ happy. She was extremely protective of all the books under her care, a trait which the Slytherin could identify with, seeing as he could never allow himself to dog-ear, bend, or otherwise cause any defacing of any of his own, whether intentional or not. Still, even though Harry understood her, (or, he thought he did, at any rate,) she still scared him a little with her swooping motions around the students in the Library, rather like a vulture of sorts, albeit an underfed one.

The trio tiptoed around the bookcases towards one of the tables next to the window. Although it was late, and the sun had gone down, it was surprisingly pleasant to look at Hogwarts' shadowy grounds at night from the warmth and safety of the Library.

"What shall we start with?" Harry asked, dropping his messenger bag, heavy with books, onto the expanse of the table before him. It made a loud "_thump_" as it landed and he winced.

"What books did you two bring? I've got Potions, Transfiguration, and Defence." Draco asked, perching himself onto the soft cushions of the Library's chair.

"Astronomy, Defence, Herbology." Pansy answered as she dug around him her bag, emerging with a sheet of parchment

"Well..." Harry meekly started, sitting down, "I didn't know which ones to bring, so I sort of brought all of them."

Draco laughed.

"Merlin! Your poor bag, the abuse that it takes regularly." Pansy sighed as she plopped down onto her chair. "Did you at least get charms put on it when you bought it, to make it easier for yourself?"

"Well, the bag was muggle-made, so I had to charm it all myself." Harry replied with a sheepish smile. "I did a mild Featherweight Charm and a somewhat successful Extension Charm, but I'm working on making it undetectable because I get odd looks when I use it in public."

"Impressive." Draco muttered.

"How's it _somewhat_ successful? If the Extension Charm works, then it's successful, no?" Pansy tilted her head to one side.

"Well, see here?" Harry said, moving his bag onto the table and showing his friends a small shimmery patch on the underside of it. "The fabric warped a bit here after I cast the spell. It's not really noticeable, but I can't figure out how to remove it without causing further damage."

Both Pansy and Draco nodded thoughtfully.

Madame Pince glared at them from the entrance and the brunette giggled. "We should probably get to actual studying." she said in a whisper. "The librarian looks like she's going to have our heads mounted on stakes."

"How about Defence? Might as well work on it while the material's fresh in our minds." Harry suggested as he searched inside his bag, pulling out two thick, dusty tomes before finally finding the familiar brown of his DADA textbook.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Half an hour before the Library was to close, the trio unanimously decided to stop studying and begin writing letters to their respective families at home.

Harry idly made a mental note to buy sugar quills as he caught himself chewing on the end of his eagle feather ones again. Then, he paused before surveying the final version of his letter.

_Mother and Father._

_How have you been? I've been doing fairly well. _

_I've made friends with Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, who are both Slytherins. _

_Hogwarts is an amazing place filled with wonderful things, we (Draco, Pansy, Eris, and I) discovered the kitchens today, all on our own. The house elves are extremely friendly, just like you told me and Alex they were._

_Speaking of Alex, I'm not sure if he told you, but I've been sorted into Slytherin. Lex, predictably, is a Gryffindor. Our common room is under the Black Lake, and there are floor-to-ceiling windows that show the going-ons of the various different creatures that live there. It's absolutely majestic. Did you know that there are Merpeople right here at Hogwarts? They swim up next to the windows all the time to peer in at us. Or, are we peering at them? I'm not so sure._

_The Slytherin common room's great, so long as we can actually get there. There appears to be a labyrinth-like structure surrounding it in the dungeons– our (Draco, Pansy, Eris, I) record for getting lost was 12 times in one day. I'm going to draw a map as soon as I can._

_Other than that, nothing much eventful has happened thus far. Could you send my set of muggle propelling pencils, lead, and 3 of the grey erasers they came with? I brought my sketchbook, but drawing in ink has proven to be harder than I thought. Also, some sugar quills if you can; I've been craving them lately._

_Love,_

_Harry._

If he had enough time, Harry would've written a few more drafts. Though, it would do for now. The dark-haired boy spread the parchment out and held the corners down with a few books from his bag, to let it dry.

"Are you close to being finished?" Harry asked.

"Almost. I just have to finish one more sentence and I'll be done." Pansy mumbled, writing intensely.

"I've finished." Draco offered, blowing gently on his parchment.

"Good." Harry replied.

"Aaand done!" Pansy grinned triumphantly with a flourish of her quill.

"And now we wait for the ink to dry." Harry sighed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

* * *

**A/N:** Now that I think about it, Dipsy, the House Elf, is also the same name as a Telletubby. I didn't realise this until _after_ the chapter was already written. Oh well.

The propelling pencil, as Harry referred to it as, is British for the American mechanical pencil. I actually didn't know that before writing this chapter. (^o^)

I got mixed responses in the last chapter where I asked about the readers' feelings about an artsy Harry and a Harry that likes cooking or baking, so I'm thinking about writing a Harry that's simply creative. By that, I mean that he'll like to tinker with things and make things, maybe modifying a few charms on his quills to make them more efficient, start inventing a few potions (since he already enjoys modifying his own Potions, or inventing them; that one notable incident when he'd purposefully melted Alex's bed with his children's potions set, chapter 2), or something like that. Sort of like Fred and George, except he'll likely focus more on the practical side of inventions, like the quill I mentioned earlier. I'm still not sure. I'll see where the writing takes me.

Don't worry though, he's not going to become either a Martha Stewart or a Da Vinci at first try. (^_^) I'm thinking of writing Harry as having natural talent when it comes to art, applying it often to his Transfiguration, and I'm also thinking of writing Harry as simply average at food-making at first, though he'll possess a great deal of fondness for it and eventually get better as time passes. Well, tell me your opinions on it– I'm only as good as the readers say I am. :)

I want there to be a prank war between the Slytherin Trio, Draco, Pansy, Harry, and the Mostly Gryffindor Trio, Alex, Ron, Zacharias, (because Zach is a Hufflepuff), so I really want Harry to make a few of his own prank items. (But, unlike Gred and Forge, he won't do anything like Skiving Snackboxes, Patented Daydream Charms, etc. Just prank things for the prank war and for later, if he develops a fondness for it. It'll fit with the creative idea.) Your thoughts? Good? Bad?

Oh, before I forget, after the Shakespearean monologue of the last chapter, I wanted to explain why Harry chose to do that. It all began when I had an idea that he, as a bookworm, would end up quoting or paraphrasing things when he got highly emotional, as a result of his brain sort of short-circuiting from the raised emotions. I thought it would contrast well with the "usual" Harry, who thinks faster than his mouth and quill can move. So, a highly flustered Harry might just be extremely quiet and just stand rigidly red-faced, or he might stammer something completely random from something that he'd read and run away. Then, I added to the idea a bit and put it into a chapter. Your thoughts? Did the monologue stick out in a bad way? (Be truthful, I can take it if it makes me better)

Anyway, a HUGE thank you to all the readers who gave me ideas for favourite foods last chapter! I'm still deciding which ones I'll use, but I'll definitely keep you all posted :D

_Questions deleted._


	11. Chapter 10: Owlery

Chapter 10

* * *

The Slytherins had gotten kicked out of the Library by Madame Pince at 8pm sharp, along with a couple of other students, due to it closing. Thankfully, their letters had dried completely, so the three didn't complain about having to leave, seeing as they were already going to without being prompted.

Even at this time of night, the corridors were surprisingly brightly lit. A few paintings paused what they were doing to observe the three first years as they passed.

"Anyone actually know where the Owlery _is_?" Harry asked, rolling his letter up and gently placing it into his messenger bag.

"It's on top of a tower..." Pansy shrugged.

"There are around a hundred towers in this castle." Draco deadpanned. "You may want to be a bit more specific. We could be here for the rest of our schooling lives, just looking through them."

Harry stifled a laugh.

"We should ask someone." Pansy proposed with an exaggerated huff.

Draco made a big show of looking up and down the completely corridor. "Wow. _So _many choices. I wonder whom?" He smirked sarcastically.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Stupid boys and never asking for directions. The _paintings_, of course." Saying that, she strode up to a nearby painting of lions in a circus tent. The lion-tamer stopped petting his companions when he noticed her and walked to the foreground of the picture.

"Hello." He said with a little bow.

"Hello to you too." Pansy smiled. "Do you know where the Owlery is?"

The lion-tamer nodded in reply.

"Could you show us the way there? We're first years, so we don't quite know the way around just yet." The coffee-haired Slytherin continued.

"Of course!"

The lion-tamer led them around a plethora of twists, turns, trick staircases and normal staircases, dashing through the paintings that hung on nearly all the walls in the school. At last, they arrived at the end of a short corridor. There was a staircase in front of them, which the lion-tamer told them led to the Owlery.

"I can't go up with you, since there aren't any paintings on the way there. Would you like me to lead the way back? I could wait for you until then. I have a good friend whose portrait hangs in this hallway." He offered with a congenial grin.

"Thank you." Pansy replied. "It would be much appreciated if you could."

The trio climbed up the spiralling staircase and arrived inside an enormous circular stone room. Though, the word "room", for Harry, normally conjured up images of cozy little sitting areas. This was not _exactly_ a room, in that sense. It _did_ have a walls, a floor, and a door so, in definition, it was a room. It just didn't _feel_ much like one. Whether it was the cold draft, or the fact that, instead of windows, the Owlery simply had openings in the wall for the owls inhabiting it to enter and exit its ease, Harry couldn't tell. The three had entered through a trap door in the ground, its handle cold with the evening chill of autumn, and pock-marked with rust in places where whatever protective charms that used to cover it had been rendered ineffective by the elements over the years.

Pansy wrinkled up her nose as soon as she entered.

"It stinks in here." The brunette mumbled, sounding slightly nasal. _Well, I suppose that's only normal, since she's pinching her nose closed with one hand._

Harry delicately sniffed at the air. "It's not too bad. I suppose it just takes some getting used to." And, it wasn't. The air smelled like the straw that lined the bare stone floor the three were standing on– sort of like that barn that the Potter family took a trip to when Harry and Alex were young only, a lot more ..._feathery_.

The green-eyed Slytherin's train of thought was interrupted when three feathery masses essentially dive-bombed their respective owners and he had to stumble back to avoid being bowled over by his snowy owl.

"Hey, darling." Harry cooed with a smile, fishing around his pockets for an owl treat which Hedwig promptly took from his hand as soon as she saw it.

"We should introduce our owls to each other." Pansy proposed.

"To _each other_," Harry gestured to the three Slytherins, "or _each other_?" The Parselmouth motioned to the owls on their respective arms.

"Both, I suppose." The brunette replied. "Shall I start?" After nods of confirmation from both Draco and Harry, she proceeded. "This is my spotted owl, Celeritas. I'll pronounce it slowly for you, alright? Ke-LAIR-ih-tahs. Got it? Her name comes from Latin, and it essentially means 'swiftness', or 'speed'. She's on bad terms with Esmeralda, my peacock, though I don't know why." The owl in question swivelled its head around to look curiously at the two humans and their owls with her enormous dark eyes and gave a loud hoot of acknowledgement.

Draco opened his mouth to introduce his own owl next. It looked extremely grumpy, due to its slanted darker feathers that almost covered the inner corner of its orange-yellow eyes. They looked like extremely furrowed, feathery eyebrows. "This is Zeus." The blond began, and the owl on his forearm puffed up proudly at the mention of his name. "He's an eagle owl, and he delights in scaring or... mentally scarring the house-elves with offerings of live mice."

"He's _enormous_." Pansy commented, leaning forward to gently run her finger over one of the feather tufts on Zeus' head. The owl looked at her hand disdainfully, which reminded Harry a lot of what Draco would probably do, if he was an owl.

"Well, this is my snowy owl, Hedwig." Harry said, extending his forearm, with said bird on it, towards the two Slytherins and their owls for them to see her better. "She likes owl treats, and beef sausage, though I don't let her eat the latter since it's probably bad for her." Hedwig hooted what was presumably a hello to the others in whatever language that owls used, and Harry found himself wishing that his linguistic abilities extended beyond English, Parseltongue, French, and Latin. Of course, all children of pureblooded families had to learn French and Latin, but maybe Owl-ish or whatever it would be called would be more fun to study than a dead language and assign-genders-to-inanimate-objects.

They tied their letters to their respective owls and huddled together from the bite of the Autumn air as they watched the three shapes fly away into the night until even the bright white feathers of Harry's snowy owl weren't visible anymore.

"We should probably head back." Pansy said, shivering a bit from the cold draft that swept through the Owlery.

The three Slytherins walked down the spiralling staircase again and met with the lion-tamer, talking to a loud knight with a long feather in his helmet.

Pansy cleared her throat to get their attention. When their conversation ceased, she nodded to the knight and turned to address the lion-tamer.

"Thank you for waiting here. Could you show us the way back to the Entrance Hall? Our common room is relatively close to that, so we'll be able to make our own way back when we reach a familiar area."

On their way back, Harry realised that the Owlery really wasn't as far from the rest of the school as he'd previously thought– the twists and turns just made it seem that way.

The lion-tamer escorted them to the staircases leading down into the dungeons with apparent ease and departed with a jolly and enthusiastic wave goodbye.

"I wonder how long it took him to familiarise himself with all the places in the castle." Harry mused aloud. "Will seven years even be enough for us?"

Pansy laughed, a soft, bright-sounding tone. "Perhaps, for the rest of us. Though, I don't think your sense of direction will allow that for yourself."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Harry."

"Hm?" The dark-haired boy in question looked up from his pages scattered around the desk, his quill dangling from his mouth from when he had been chewing on it in concentration and forgotten it was there soon after.

"We've already studied enough for today. Really. Even by my standards."

Harry smirked. "But, _Blondie_, I'm not studying."

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed loudly, sitting up on his bed. "Stop calling me that."

"Stop calling you what?"

Harry's face was the very picture of innocence, and he knew it. He'd spent _ages_ perfecting that look in front of the mirror in his room a while back. Though it was designed to manipulate Missy into giving him hot cocoa, it did the trick extremely well whenever he wanted to placate someone.

It worked, of course, and Draco sighed loudly before flopping back into his mound of cushions. "What on earth are you doing then, if not studying?" He mumbled at the ceiling.

Harry's smirk turned sheepish and he could feel his cheeks heating up a little. "Promise not to laugh?"

The blond turned his head towards the Parselmouth with a puzzled expression but nodded his agreement anyway.

"Well... I used to like baking with mother at home and, after seeing the kitchens today, I really wanted to try cooking by myself, so I was making a list of foods that I know how to make and seeing if I could find some recipes later on in the week. That is, if I can convince the house elves to share their work space with me for a few hours."

Draco shook his head with an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips and Harry pouts angrily. The blond raised his hands in mock surrender at the Parselmouth's not at all intimidating expression, though he was still smiling that infuriating smile of his. Harry scowled angrily. It just made Draco's smirk wider.

"I'm not laughing, though." Draco grinned cheekily, and Harry repressed his urge to throw something at him. Like a pillow. Anything to get him to stop.

"Actually, I think it's a decent idea." Draco continued, all of a sudden looking thoughtful. "You could leave them out in the common room with a sign or something of that sort, telling everyone that they could have if they want, since I'm presuming that the three of us can't finish a lot of the bigger things, like cakes. Though, you'll have to charm it so that nobody can take more than whatever amount you determine they can have, just so it's relatively fair."

Harry nodded. Draco had essentially done the Malfoy equivalent of apologising by aiding him with his project. Obviously, the older pureblood families were extremely proud, so saying something so _plebeian_ as a simple "I'm sorry" was below them. The dark-haired Slytherin rolled his eyes. _I suppose I could forgive him._

"Thank you." Harry said, and both of them knew that he wasn't simply referring to the advice, but to the unspoken apology as well.

"What do you have on the list so far?" Draco asked, his voice seemingly genuinely curious, as he swung his legs to the side of his bed and shuffled over to where Harry was sitting, at one of the two desks in the dorm room.

Harry scanned over his list. "Sponge cake, carrot cake, berry muffins, shortbread, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, macaroni cheese–"

"Macaroni cheese." Draco deadpanned with a raised eyebrow.

"Not the normal type." The Parselmouth clarified, crossing his arms defensively. "Mine are special."

"Special? What way?" The blond asked, leaning over Harry's shoulder to read the piece of parchment that the dark-haired boy was holding.

"Own recipe. Threw together a few things one day and it tasted good, so I experimented a bit more until it was just right."

"What's in it?"

"Well," Harry smiled wryly, "it wouldn't be a secret recipe if I told you, would it?"

Draco shrugged. "Worth a try, at any rate."

There was a short pause where Harry added a few more things onto his parchment.

"Hmm..." Draco murmured, his running quickly across Harry's unorganised list. "Apple pie?"

"Mhm." Harry hummed. "Mother taught me a couple of years ago. The pie crust can be modified, and I can change the recipe to include any of the usual types of pies. So really, in this format, 'apple pie' represents 'all pies'."

Draco nodded thoughtfully.

"Well," Harry paused, "unless it's horrifically complicated, but pies usually aren't. I can make a pretty decent apple pie, or so I've been told."

"Make one sometime."

Harry shrugged. "I'll definitely try my best. Though, I'm not making any promises, since the house elves might not even let me use their kitchen. You'll owe me something in return, though."

"Naturally." Draco grinned.

Harry smiled amusedly as he wrote "macaroons, "baked ziti", "stir fry", and, after a small pause, "ice cream."

"Can you make Black Forest Gateau?" Draco asked again.

"Yup. It's just a regular sponge cake with cocoa powder added to the flour topped with cherries and cream. It partially falls under 'sponge cake', so I didn't include it."

"Trifle?"

"Essentially sponge cake with custard, cream and fruits. Though..." Harry pursed his lips in thought, and then wrote down "custard" on the next line.

They continued like that for a long time, with Draco suggesting foods and Harry occasionally writing them down. After a while, they started a new list. This time, of foods that the Parselmouth wanted to try to make, whenever he had the chance. They carried on until the clock on the wall read eleven o' clock and both Draco and Harry felt their eyelids struggling to stay open.

"We should go to sleep." The Malfoy mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

Harry yawned and stretched, setting the two sheets of parchment aside to dry. "G'd idea. Mm."

The green-eyed child slipped his feet into warm woollen slippers and shuffled towards Eris' vivarium.

_"Erissss, are you in need of anything?"_ Harry hissed, gently petting Eris' head.

_"Not at the moment, thank you. Ssssssleep, young one."_ The black mamba replied.

_"Goodnight, Erissss." _Harry yawned.

_"Ssssleep well, little ssssnake."_

After the exchange, Harry pulled off his black schoolrobes and the muggle shirt and jeans that he had underneath, digging out his soft, comfortable pyjamas with mint green stripes, his favourite, from his trunk that he still had yet to unpack.

After letting down the hangings around his bed, the green-eyed Slytherin flopped down onto it and stared at the ceiling, enchanted to show the night sky above, letting his eyes sweep over the constellations until he could barely keep them open any longer.

"Goodnight, Draco." Harry murmured, just as he was about to fall asleep.

"Goodnight, Harry." Came the soft answer, and Harry closed his eyes, letting the darkness take his conscious mind away.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

* * *

**A/N: **Honestly, I have no idea if beef sausage is bad for owls, to be honest. The Internet just said "raw, whole creatures" was what owls usually ate, but beef was one of the things that an owl could apparently be fed, so I figured that the cooked version would probably be ok as an occasional treat. My own cat really likes butter popcorn. But, then again, he's a weird cat.

If I'm wrong, as always, feel free to correct me.

In other news, if anyone wants to send me ideas on Tumblr, I'm Phoenixthecookiemonster over there, same as my username here. ( ^o^) I keep forgetting to list that, sorry. Even of you don't have any suggestions relating to this fic, feel free to drop on and say hi! I don't bite. (Unless you're into that, hehe.)

Also, if I ever use the wrong expression in my writing (aka, the non-British expression) please let me know! I've lived in a few different countries, and I read **a lot**, so I tend to use a plethora of different expressions; it's easy to get mixed up when you're concentrating on the big plotline rather than the little details.

In my last chapter, I forgot to thank all my lovely readers for 50 favourites and over 100 followers! This is a **_HUGE_** milestone for me, and I'm so infinitely grateful for the overwhelming support :3 We're currently at 59 favourites and 120 followers and this is probably one of the best fuzzy feelings _ever_.

Questions? Yup.

1) From the list, could you pick a patronus and animagus form for Harry?

Thestral, phoenix, Corsac fox (like a normal fox, but less red and more yellow), Fennec fox (like a normal fox, but fifty billion times cuter. Google it, please. No regrets, I promise.), a cat (Ragdoll (fluffy as heck), Egyptian Mau (adorable), Siberian (also fluffy), or a black Turkish Angora (kind of fluffy, but not overly so)), wolf (Tundra, or Alaskan Tundra (the latter appears to be bigger than the former, but don't quote me on that))

Heck, if you're not answering the question, I'd suggest searching the cats up on google images anyway; they're adorable.

If you have any other good suggestions, please let me know! I quite like symbolic things as well, though Harry's animagus form needs to be relatively small (so, no wholly mammoth, sorry :P) because I want him to sneak around at night with it.

2) The trio have double Transfiguration the next day, any ideas for what should be taught? Please keep in mind that they're first years when suggesting!

They also have Potions class on the second day of school as well (wow, it took a really long time and a lot of words for me to just write the first day of school), though it may not be in the same chapter as Transfiguration. I've been wanting to write the first Potions class FOR EVER. Got most of it planned and everything. :3

Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 11: Reducto

Chapter 11

* * *

Harry scrubbed at his teeth and delighted in the way that he had a bubbly white beard for all of three minutes, the recommended time for one to brush their teeth. Then he rinsed his mouth and, subsequently, the lower part of his face off, leaving himself with a minty fresh mouth and dazzling white teeth that actually sparkled, they were that clean.

_I love wizarding toothpaste._

There was a row of widely-spaced washbasins lining one of the first year bathrooms' walls and Harry had claimed an end for himself, since he had no desire whatsoever to even have the remotest chance of being splashed that morning. Harry had heard that the hulking boys (though how _eleven_ year olds could be _hulking_, he didn't know,) currently using the middle two washbasins, were exceedingly... _stupid_, possibly more so than his cousin Dudley, whom he was already ashamed to admit a relation to. Thus, they were to be avoided at all costs. The two... Crabbe and Goyle, their names were, if Harry remembered correctly, seemed to be causing a lot of water to flow onto the silver and green tiled floor with whatever it was that they were doing, so the Parselmouth was glad that he'd at least had the sense to stay well out of their way.

Harry yawned as he dug around in his toiletry bag for his hairbrush, finally sighting the familiar silver shape after a few seconds of searching. He stared at himself in the mirror and poked at his cheek before sighing and bringing his brush up to his horrific bedhead.

"Y'know," Draco commented from his basin beside Harry, "I'd have said on the Hogwarts Express that your hair probably couldn't get any messier, but that was before I saw in the mornings."

Harry blew a huffy breath at a stubborn lock of wavy hair that had fallen into his eyes as a reply.

"Why so grumpy, Little Guy?"

The three Slytherins had found out that Harry was the youngest of their group during their dinner together the night before, by close to two months. Being the oldest child for eleven years, Harry didn't like the feeling of suddenly being the youngest, and the raven-haired boy had pouted about it until Draco, rolling his eyes, had offered him another chocoball to make him cease.

Harry growled angrily and flicked a few drops of water at his roommate in retaliation for the "little" jab, and smugly delighting in the surprised yelp that the blond let out as the water hit him before going back to failing at taming his hair. Meanwhile, sneaking a look out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco run his comb through his perfectly straight and perfectly neat platinum strands that didn't even fluff up the slightest even after an entire night of being mussed by a pillow. _Life's just not fair._

Harry gave up with an annoyed huff, like he always did when it came to his hair, and turned to Draco, who had his perfectly cut bangs and his perfect hair smoothed out until not a single hair was out of place.

"Stupid hair." The green-eyed boy mumbled, glaring at Draco with envy.

The blond chuckled as he uncapped a tube of gel.

"Wait." Harry said abruptly, before he'd realised what he was saying, stopping Draco before he'd squeezed any out. At the silver-eyed boy's questioning glance, he sighed resignedly. _Might as well._

"As much as I'd hate to make your ego any larger than it is already, I feel that I should probably tell you that your hair is good enough without all the gel that you put into it." Harry huffed grudgingly. Draco really didn't deserve the ego boost, after the "little" jabs, but the gelled-back hair was really starting to annoy him.. "You should leave it out; it makes you look more... approachable."

Draco's eyes widened slightly before his previously teasing smirk softened into a genuine, pleased smile. "Thank you, _Little_ Snake."

"Don't mention it." Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I mean it. Don't mention this ever again, _Blondie_."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"No no no. Daphne. Since you're a pureblood from one of those stuffy families, I have a right to inform you that muggles actually figured out a bunch of the same things we know about possession, all without magic." Harry said, gesturing with his hand for emphasis, muttering something that sounded like "purebloods and their bigoted beliefs."

The three friends had been joined by the two girls from the day before at breakfast time, and Harry had been delighted to have people listen to his long speeches.

"Of course, they got a few things wrong as well, but so did we, in the beginning. I'm assuming you all know about the magical version of possession? The actual version?" When everyone had nodded, Harry continued, cutting his spear of asparagus absentmindedly. "Where muggle 'possession' began is fuzzy. But, then again, the beginnings of pretty much everything is mostly unproved and hazy, so let's just let that slide. At any rate, sickness, mental or physical, was believed to be a result of possession in many cultures."

"However, keep in mind that attributing things that could not be understood at that time to religion was a common practice." Draco added. Harry took the opportunity to spear one piece of asparagus with his fork, chewing quickly before swallowing.

"Mhm. That's also right. Going off the religion tangent, some cultures believed, and some others still do, that, during possessions, the possessed can give prophesies that relate to their own futures." Harry said, leaning forward to spoon himself a small bowl of oatmeal which he covered with slivers of almond. "Though, there have also been stories in the muggle world of spirits possessing others to live out their remaining lives, or to achieve a goal. It's sort of like the idea that Muggles have of ghosts not being able to find peace due to them having unfinished business they need to take care of."

Someone bumped into Harry's seat quite hard, causing him to almost spill the milk he was adding to his oatmeal. When the Parselmouth spun around to look at who caused it, he saw Professor Quirrell's walking towards the staff table, a slight limp from where his leg collided with Harry's chair.

"People should really learn to say 'sorry' more often." The green-eyed Slytherin huffed. "Now, as I was saying, possession can–"

Harry's lecture was interrupted by a loud throat-clearing. Dumbledore stood in the front of the hall, and its occupants immediately quieted to hear what he had to say.

"There has been an error in the schedules," the silver-bearded wizard said, "regarding History of Magic. All first and fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors will be sharing classes together from now on. It will be in the same period as displayed on the Slytherin timetable, so they do not need a new one, but the Gryffindors affected by the change should see their Head of House outside the Great Hall immediately after breakfast to receive their updated schedules."

There was a chorus of groans from the two tables.

Immediately after the headmaster sat down, a flood of owls entered the Great Hall. Harry immediately recognised Mercury, the Potter family owl, which dropped heavily onto the Slytherins lap with a package tied to his leg.

"I honestly think he's gotten bigger since the last time I saw him." The Parselmouth commented as Draco leaned over to pet the Great Grey on the head.

Harry placed his cutlery onto either side of his plate and reached to untie the package that Mercury had bought him. There was a letter attached, so he opened that first, feeding the Great Grey a piece of ham as thanks before sending the owl on his way, before his talons could puncture Harry's robes.

_Precious,_

The letter read, and the green-eyed boy smiled as he saw his mother's beautiful cursive adorning the parchment.

_It's lovely to hear that you've made friends in your own house. Speaking of which, your father owes me 10 gallons after the bet we made– he thought you'd be a Ravenclaw._

_Flopsy enjoys playing with your toy mouse a lot. We hear the bell you put in it jangling sometimes at night. She won't let me or your father touch it at all, and just trots out of the room with it whenever we try._

_Missy misses you, and she asked us to send you a small box of chocolate cupcakes to share with your friends at school. Don't tell Alex though; he didn't get one. I think you're Missy's favourite._

_~Lily_

Then, the handwriting changed to the messy scrawl of his father's, and Harry grinned as he read.

_You're a Slytherin, huh? I know I used to tell you awful stories of that house, but only the minority were really that way. In particular, Snivellus, but don't tell that greasy git I called him that. I'd tell you to hex your Head of House for me, but your mother would have my head._

_Really, what I'm trying to say is that I don't mind you being a Slytherin. At your age, I was a bigoted prat and I'm pretty sure I've changed. your mother seems to think I did too, since I'm pretty sure it's one of the reasons she married me._

_Moony apologises for not being able to see you off– you know how his furry little problem gets after the full moon. He ended up with the flu, poor guy, and didn't want any of us to catch it._

_You mentioned needing a map of the school, and it just so happens that I'm in possession of one that my friends and I made in fifth year. It's enchanted to show the whereabouts of everyone in the castle. I added it to the parcel, along with your sugar quills, cupcakes, and stationary. It looks like a blank piece of parchment normally, and you can even write on it, since any marks or damage done to it will disappear after a few hours. We had to enchant it that way, since we kept spilling things when we were using it._

_Just tap it with your wand and say "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." when you need to use it, and the map will appear. When you're done, tap it again and say "Mischief managed."_

_Don't let it fall into the wrong hands._

_We spent a lot of time on that, and Filch would have a field day if he found it._

_Speaking of which, good job finding the kitchens on your first day, kiddo. It took my gang a while. Must be your smarts, huh? Your mother's proud. _

_Have fun at school! Study hard, but prank harder._

_Don't tell Lily about that last bit._

_–Your old (but not really, we both know that) man_

Harry giggled at the last part of his father's part of the letter, unboxing the stationary, sugar quills, and cupcakes. There were exactly 6 of Missy's famous gooey and decadent chocolate ones, packed nearly into a separate box of its own, so Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, and Draco each got one, with Harry eating one right there and putting the other back into the box it came in for later.

Draco's expression when he bit into his cupcake of chocolatey wonder looked very much like what Harry imagined his own did, the previous night when he tried the house elves' chocoballs for the first time.

Pansy giggled, licking the tip of the frosting swirl off of hers.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The first half of the first class, Transfiguration, was _boring_. Partly because Professor McGonagall spent it going over what the class had learnt the previous day, which Harry already knew and understood, seeing as he'd already performed the match-to-needle spell properly.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the first half of the class, the professor stopped the review session and Harry thought that they might _finally_ get some actual magic done, Professor McGonagall moved onto a lecture about theory and how wand movements influenced the outcome of the spell casted.

At any rate, _seeing_ the wand movements and spells demonstrated was never as fun as actually _performing_ them himself. In between drawing absentmindedly on his parchment, Harry earned a few points for Slytherin by answering questions and promptly zoning out again once they'd been deemed satisfactory.

Harry's doodles had taken up more of the page than his notes had and his sugar quill's size had decreased dramatically by the time he tuned back into what Professor McGonagall was saying. She'd written a spell on the board, and had presumably explained it whilst doing so. Thankfully, looking at the chalky incantation, Harry let out a sigh of relief when he realised that he'd already read ahead about that spell, so he knew what to do.

"When I tell you to," the Transfiguration professor was saying, "you are to begin trying to transfigure your match from yesterday into a needle once more. _Remember_, the hand movement is as important as the incantation. Neither can exist without the other, and the spell will not work if you have done one of them incorrectly. Begin now, you have until the end of class, the second period, to do so."

"What about us?" Harry whispered to Draco, who was sitting beside him.

The Malfoy raised one blond eyebrow. "You're so lucky we covered this yesterday night. Your transfigured needle from yesterday's on your desk, you have to change it back into a match. We've learnt the spell and incantation last night, so it should be fairly simple. Good luck."

Harry nodded his thanks and picked up his needle, almost pricking his finger on its pointed tip.

_Well, better get drawing._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

15 points to Slytherin for "an expertly transfigured match" later, Harry earned the right to gloat all the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts, as well as a scarf to the face, courtesy of Draco, which couldn't even remotely dampen his happiness.

Harry yawned as he sat down. "I need to sleep more. My thoughts are becoming weirder and weirder as the day passes."

Then, abruptly, the Parselmouth perked up, just as Alex entered the classroom with his crowd of admirers, the Gryffindors sounding like a herd of hippogriffs.

"You're like a bloody Hufflepuff." Draco muttered. "Or a puppy."

Harry elbowed him lightly, ignoring his friend's complaints as he tried vainly to catch Alex's eye while the younger twin walked past his seat.

The brown-eyed Gryffindor firmly ignored him, going as far as to turn his head to avoid eye contact.

Harry's happiness deflated like a balloon that had been victim to an unfortunate encounter with a prickly needle.

Pansy patted his head sympathetically.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Even earning a combined 10 points for answering questions wasn't enough to cheer Harry up too much, and he spent the entire period of History of Magic taking notes and drawing ways that matchstick figure Weasley could come to an untimely demise. Surprisingly, out of the entire combined class of the Gryffindors and Slytherins, only he and the buck-toothed know-it-all managed to stay awake throughout the lesson.

Her, scribbling furiously onto her parchment; him, plotting murder.

Then, the bell signalling the end of class and the beginning of lunch rang and, one by one, the students woke up. Some stretched and yawned, chasing the drowsiness away from their bodies, while others wiped away the drool leaking from the corners of their mouths and sleepily blinked their way back to the realm of the conscious.

Harry tidied up all his school supplies and placed them gently into his backpack, careful not to crease or bend any of his parchment pieces. Just as he lifted his head from where he had been rearranging the contents of his bag, a familiar body walked past his desk, and his arm reached out to grab hold of a handful of black fabric.

"Harry." Alex's voice was cold, and his head remained facing away from the Slytherin. "Let go of my robe."

"We have to talk about whatever this is that's going on between us, as cliche as it may sound." Harry insisted, his hand still clutching Alex's clothing tightly, since it seemed to be the only thing keeping the younger twin there.

The students had slowly started to clear out of the classroom while their exchange happened, until only several Gryffindors remained, standing a few feet behind the younger Potter twin. Draco and Pansy had thankfully left too, with a barely perceptible nod from Harry. The Weasley had left already, no doubt to rush to lunch as soon as he could. He ate like a starved animal– flying spatters of food and all.

"Lex. Whatever you have against me, you can tell me." The Parselmouth entreated, almost desperately. "Please."

Alex let out a deep, long, sigh before he finally spoke. "Harry. You're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor. I'm the Boy Who Lived, and your house is made up of Junior Death Eaters and Dark Magic enthusiasts, also known as 'people who want to kill me'."

Harry made a move to speak but Alex shushed him. "You're my brother, my twin, so that makes you slightly better than the others, but the fact that you were even sorted there says that it's not by much."

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Harry quoted sadly, feeling something akin to a chunk of ice lodged in is chest, freezing everything around it.

At Alex's puzzled expression, he elaborated softly. "A human is still a human, whether they're labelled a Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw. In the same way, a rose will still be a rose, and still smell the same, no matter the name we give to it. And, I'm still your twin. I'm still the person from two days ago, who made you scrambled eggs and toast in the morning and hot chocolate whenever you wanted."

"Well then, Harry. Since a rose will still smell the same, no matter what name it's called, a Slytherin will always be Dark, no matter what house they're in."

"What do you say that?" said Harry softly. "If the Sorting Hat sorted one of your housemates into Slytherin, would you hate them too?"

"If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sorted as a _Hufflepuff_ does that make him good? No. Besides, he wouldn't be put there. The Hat doesn't lie, it just reveals people's true selves." Alex retorted angrily.

"The Hat doesn't lie, of course. It simply puts people in the house where the majority is extremely similar to them." Harry said, digging his nails into his palms.

"Hufflepuffs are friendly. Ravenclaws are smart. Gryffindors are brave. And Slytherins are lying, evil, bastards who hurt other people for fun." The brown-eyed boy growled.

"They aren't." The older twin protested. "I'm a Slytherin and I'm not even close to that."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You will, though. That's the point. And that's why I'm going to stop talking to you, since you won't have as many chances to hurt me that way."

Harry felt frozen, like somebody had cast a body-bind curse on him and left. "Why?" He whispered forlornly, when he finally remembered how to use his jaw.

Because that's what Slytherins DO." The younger twin snarled.

"Goodbye. Harry."

With that, Alex yanked his robe out of Harry's hand and stomped out, the remaining Gryffindors behind him, congratulating him.

Pansy and Draco hurried into the classroom seconds after Alex left. They stood in front of the watery-eyed Harry. Instead of saying anything, the two merely slid into seats on either side of the Parselmouth. Pansy hugged him tightly, making shushing noises and patting his back, while Draco gently smoothed down Harry's unruly dark locks of hair. They sat there like that, Pansy's warmth unthawing the chill that the elder Potter twin felt in his chest, and Draco's hand a calming, comfortable, and repetitive motion on his head.

"Lex was my first friend, my best friend." Harry mumbled into Pansy's shoulder. "Since father was always away on auror business, and mother was always writing, I practically raised him with our family house elf.

"Used to cook for him, since he sometimes felt guilty about making Missy do all the work. An' cared for him. A lot. M' first burst of accidental magic happened when he fell off a tree branch and I healed him." Harry sniffed. "We knew each other's likes, dislikes, hobbies... everything. Probably better than we know ourselves. We even had our own language, y'know?" The Parselmouth swallowed hard. "And we used to make it our mission to confuse anyone who couldn't tell us apart, which was most people, actually."

"Now, he makes friends with probably one of the worst Gryffindors I've ever had the misfortune of meeting and he completely changes overnight into..." Harry did a small fluttery and erratic hand gesture when he couldn't find the right word.

"A bigoted prat?" Draco offered, causing the dark-haired boy to let out a slightly hysterical laugh that turned into a soft sob.

"I don't know what I can do to stop him or bring him back to the way he was." Harry said, wiping at his damp eyes.

"I just want the old Alex back."

They sat like that for a while, the three friends, and Harry allowed himself to cry.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

There's something to be said about pain. It cannot be forgotten, no matter how much one tries. It cannot be ignored, since it's constantly making itself known in some form or other. Harry's pain was like a particularly nasty bruise that throbbed and ached in his chest with every exhale and inhale. Every time he took a breath, no matter how small, he could feel it pulsing and hurting, churning with a million and a half words that he had wanted to say but hadn't had the chance to.

Harry had practically run away from his friends when his tears stopped, hurriedly excusing himself from lunch before sprinting mindlessly into the dungeons.

Unsure of where he was going (and possessing a directional sense equivalent to that of a rock), it was a minor miracle that he'd somehow managed to end up before a familiar painting of fruit.

**Thud.** Harry swung the meat mallet over his head and brought it down hard onto the chicken breast that he was cooking. There was something immensely satisfying about the act of crushing something with a big metal hammer that he didn't care to analyse at that particular moment.

**Thud.** _Stupid Weasley._

**Thud. **_Stupid Gryffindors._

**Thud. **_Stupid houses._

**Thud. **_Stupid school._

**Thud. **_Stupid Alex._

**Thud. **_And his stupid choice._

**Thud. **_In stupid friends._

**Thud. **_Stupid._

**Thud.**

Though they were still warm and friendly when he asked them where certain things were located, the house elves had mostly avoided Harry, in an excellent display of self-preservation.

Harry peeled the chicken breasts that he'd beaten into submission from the cutting board, breaded them and put them into the oven before setting the timer. He still felt a weird combination of angry and sad, but the dull aching pain in his shoulder and arm muscles from swinging the massive metal meat mallet served as a worthy distraction from the dull aching pain in his chest.

The Slytherin sighed, leaning himself against the countertop.

Their friendship was to Alex, for all intents and purposes, over.

Alex's "goodbye, Harry" didn't just refer to him walking out of the classroom, but to him walking out of Harry's life.

Harry had known that. He'd known it as he'd felt the pull of dark fabric being yanked from his hand. He'd known it as dashed through the dark and twisting corridors of the dungeons. But knowing it and _knowing_ it, having it sink in fully, were two different things.

The timer on the oven made a loud ringing noise, and Harry forced himself to stand from where he'd slid to the floor.

Like skin swelling around a scratch, the raw, pure, pain from before wasn't there anymore, replaced by the sharp dullness of a feeling that Harry hadn't yet encountered a word to describe, for all his hours spent with a book.

The chicken burned his mouth and the hand he was holding it with when he bit into it, but any feeling was better than the nameless whirl of emotions that Harry was experiencing at that moment.

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"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Where his wand touched the blank sheet of parchment, lines of ink bloomed. Like a flower opening, they stretched and fanned out, covering the entirety of the page in an intricate network of crisscrossing lines until, at last, Harry softly smiled as he recognised Remus' handwriting.

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

Harry watched the tiny dots move around the parchment, each with a labelled name in tiny letters. Most people were in the Great Hall, having lunch, but there were a few groups of stragglers here and there, and what looked like an overly amorous couple tucked into an alcove a few levels up.

As his eyes roamed the page, he finally found what he was looking for: the Potions classroom. A quick glance at his watch showed that there was still quite a while until the lesson was to begin, but it wouldn't hurt to set up early. Professors liked that.

With that thought in mind, Harry followed his own dot, "Harold Potter", towards the Potions lab.

And he didn't get lost, not even once

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The sheet of parchment in front him was almost filled with potions ingredients and their uses by the time Harry looked at the map tucked under his elbow and spotted "Pandora Parkinson" and "Draco Malfoy" walking down the corridor that lead to the Potions classroom. Harry had been seeing how many he could recall from memory, and had suprised himself with how much he actually knew.

"Mischief managed."

With that, the now blank map was carefully tucked into a small pocket in his messenger bag, well alway from any harm that could come to it.

The old wooden door opened smoothly and the two Slytherins walked in, brightening when they spotted Harry sitting in the middle of the classroom.

"Are you alright?" Pansy asked, a genuine concern evident in her voice.

"Give me some time, and I'll reply."

Draco carefully slid into the seat beside Harry, slowly, like how one would approach a skittish wild animal, and a little inner part of the green-eyed boy smiled. Though it was a sad smile, it was a smile nevertheless, and Harry felt a tiny speck of warmth creep back into his chest when he realised what great friends he had.

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Professor Snape swept into the classroom just before the Gryffindors arrived. Harry kept his eyes glued to his parchment as the lions sat down, unsure of whether he could face Alex properly at that moment.

When the hook-nosed professor took the roll call, he paused when he reached Alex's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said with sneer, quietly, almost to himself, "Alexander Potter. Our new– celebrity."

"Alex." Harry's twin corrected from the back of the classroom. Professor turned towards him with a terrifying glare. "Sir. Professor. Sorry."

Pansy laughed and had to muffle it with her hand, Harry chuckled as well, feeling a sense of vindictiveness that wasn't all that unpleasant.

Then, the Potions professor continued, raising an eyebrow in Harry's direction when he called upon him, evidently recognising him from the day before. The Parselmouth looked at him with a timid smile, and seemed to pass initial inspection from the way the professor's eyes held a slightly amused glint as he sighed and continued calling out names.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," Professor Snape began. His voice was soft, slow. Whether due to fear or interest, he had an amazing talent of keeping a classroom of eleven year olds (half of them rowdy Gryffindors) quiet, seemingly without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic."

Harry shook his head softly in silent protest, and saw Draco out of the corner of his eye doing the same.

"I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death– if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

A slightly mystified smile had appeared on Harry's face, and he knew that his mouth hung open a little. This class, by far, sounded like one of the best. But, of course, he already knew that.

"_Alexander_." Professor Snape suddenly said, with an icy smile on his face. Even Harry, whom it wasn't directed at, shivered slightly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry turned around to see Alex's reaction at the same time as a hand, connected to the bushy-haired Gryffindor girl, shot into the air.

"I-I don't know. Sir." Alex replied, sounding terrified.

Professor Snape sneered. "Tut, tut– fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again, _Alexander. _Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The know-it-all waved her hand around, stretching as high as she could go– almost leaving her seat in the process. Harry could hear giggles in the Slytherin part of the classroom.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh?" The Potions professor mocked. "What is the difference, then, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

The buck-toothed Gryffindor stood up and waved her hand furiously. Draco shook his head disdainfully.

"I don't know," fumbled Alex, "but I think she does. Why don't you try her?"

Pansy tutted, and Draco drew in amused breath, clearly enjoying the show. Harry shook his head with an amused grin.

"Sit down." Professor Snape snapped at the bushy-haired know-it-all. "10 points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Alexander." Then, he turned to Harry with another bone-chilling smile. "Now, _Harold_. Care to tell us what the powdered root of asphodel and infusion of wormwood make?

"Together with sloth brain and Sopophorous bean's juice, they make a Drought of Living Death, which is a sleeping potion so powerful that a person under its effects may be confused with one who is already dead. Thus, the name." Harry answered back immediately.

Professor Snape blinked, evidently not expecting that. "And," he continued, "where would I find a beazor?"

"A beazor is a stonelike mass that forms in a goat's stomach and it acts as an antidote to most, but not all, poisons. However, they are extremely rare. As a result, one still needs to learn all the antidotes of poisons, since beazors aren't always on hand. Sir." Harry replied promptly, earning an incredulous look from Pansy.

"Did he swallow the textbook?" Someone stage-whispered, and the class tittered.

"Quiet." Professor Snape ordered, and they did so at once. "What about the differences between monkshood and wolfsbane, Harold?"

"Monkshood, wolfsbane, aconite, leopard's bane, women's bane, devil's helmet, and blue rocket are the different names for Aconitum, which is a group of over 250 species of flowering plants." Smirked Harry. Pansy sent him a thumbs up and a grin." Their leaves are highly toxic, though their flowers are commonly used in potions. It's also the most commonly known ingredient used in the making of Wolfsbane Potion. Also, please call me Harry, _Professor_."

Though Harry could tell that Snape was surprised, the Potions Professor's expression didn't betray it. Instead, he coolly smirked back. "15 points to Slytherin, _Harry_."

Then, his tone changed, becoming slightly more irritated as he turned to the class. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a loud rustling of parchment and fumbling for quills as the class scrambled to do just that. Draco nudged Harry in the side and, once he'd gotten the Parselmouth's attention, the blond grinned and mouthed "Good job." Harry grinned back.

As the class was writing, the dark-haired boy resolutely sat, not touching his quill or parchment– just to see what the Potions professor would do. When Snape's eyes landed on him, the Slytherin Head of House rolled his eyes and sighed resignedly with a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Harry grinned back.

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**A/N:** The wiki defines our chapter title as "The Reductor Curse (Reducto) is a curse that can be used to blast solid objects into pieces." I thought it was fitting.

I made myself a little teary when I wrote Alex and Harry's fight and I have no idea how. This chapter was essentially simile and metaphor galore, which was super fun to write, since I had to come you with new ways of describing the same thing.

Adding on to that, this chapter is dedicated to all my amazing readers (68 favourites, 136 follows) and all my fantastically awesome and wonderful reviewers, who have made my day so many times that I honestly cannot thank them enough. Initially, I didn't expect more than 50 people, max, to actually read my fic, let alone favourite it. Fast forward to now, where I have close to 140 people being notified each time I update. It just... Wow. It's amazing.

Although I may not reply to every single review, I assure you that I read all of them and hold them dear and close to my heart. A few have made me grin for more than half an hour without being to stop, and it's probably one of the best things in the world.

_Thank you._

Sappy things aside (though I really do mean them,) I've made a mistake in chapter 2. Remus' part in the story was originally intended for Sirius before I realised that I'd hit a dead end with my writing later on. In one sentence, Sirius' name was not edited out and replaced with Remus', completely my fault, which made it look like he'd sent a gift to Harry as well.

To clarify, Sirius Black is still in Azkaban serving his sentence for the murder he did not commit. I'm so sorry for any confusion.

Also, Harry quoted Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet, actually. The quote's one of my favourites. The actual quote's the next paragraph, I sort of cut it short.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet"

-Juliet

There're three references, if I remember properly, hidden in this. One book, one massive franchise (show, games, merchandise, everything) and one TV show– see if you can catch 'm all. (hehe)

The reviewers decided that Harry's patronus shall be a thestral! This fits with something else I have planned for later on in the series. *Evil smirk*

Most people wanted the Fennec fox to be Harry's animagus form, and I thought it was particularly fitting since Harry has that whole "little and cute" air about him, but he's full of bite on the inside (I mean, the Fennec fox lives in the _Sahara_. A place so desert-y that its name literally means "desert". Anything that can survive there deserves an award of some sort.)

Foxes are traditionally thought of as sly, cunning, and smart, which fits our Slytherin's personally perfectly. Plus, Fennex foxes are actually a lot less than the size of an average domestic cat, (The average cat is 46cm, 18.1in, while Fennec foxes range between 24-41cm, 9-16in) which means optimal sneaking around possibilities, especially with the map. I plan on keeping the "little, cute, but deadly" aspect of Harry's character, so his animagus form probably won't be changed unless there's something major in the plotline that throws me completely off.

Plus, they're some of the most adorable creatures I've ever seen.

It'll be a while before Harry actually gets to learning both the animagus transformation and the Patronus Charm, my initial plan was around the third year, which will probably change, but I thought it would be good to have it ready.

From the reviews from a previous chapter, I've decided that Pansy's favourite foods are Duck a l'Orange, and Apostle Fingers! Thank you all for your ideas. They made me hungry :3

Questions:

1) Are my long A/Ns distracting/annoying? I like writing about the little things I found amusing when writing, but I could stop if the majority wants me to. However, I'll insert a little reminder here about how skipping them is an option as well.

2) Is the animosity between Harry and Alex growing a little too fast? It's only been 2 days since term started, but I'm sort of writing under the assumption that Alex held a certain dislike for Slytherins before he came to Hogwarts. James stated in the letter he sent Harry that he used to tell them "awful stories about that house", so I'm writing as if Alex took those to heart more than Harry did.

3) This chapter was differently written, since it had a lot more descriptions than the others, thus far. Which do you prefer? Or, you could prefer neither, tell me anyway. I'd like to get an idea of what the readers like so I can write a little better. :)


	13. Chapter 12: I Believe (I Can Fly)

Chapter 12

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James wrote to apologise for all the stories he used to tell about how all Slytherins were dicks, and how he really should have seen how Alex was becoming more affected by them than Harry was. He sent a fresh stack of sugar quills along with his letter, possibly to alleviate some of the guilt that he was feeling. Harry wrote back that same day, saying that it wasn't that big of a deal, and that the whole thing would probably be over soon.

The first year received another box of sugar quills and cupcakes at breakfast the next morning.

Harry sighed.

_It wasn't of any fault of my parents that Alex turned out the way he was. Rather, I should have probably taught Alex about prejudices and other discriminatory beliefs before I taught him anything else. _

Alex still wouldn't apologise, close to a week later, despite the numerous letters from home that James said that he and Lily have written to him– about proper behaviour and such. The eldest Potter twin received some consolidation from the fact that Alex moped for close to a week after his pocket money was cut in half, though he doesn't really feel angry or sad about Alex and his Gryffindor ways anymore.

At least, he tells himself that.

Really. It wasn't too big of a deal. His twin was a perfectly smart individual who would get over such little things sooner or later.

Sooner, hopefully, rather than later.

Still, in the meantime, Harry avoided looking over at the Gryffindor table whenever possible. In fact, he avoided mealtimes as much as possible, which worked surprisingly well until he started feeling dizzy whenever he stood up and realised that he hadn't eaten a full meal in a few days.

So he started dropping by the kitchens whenever he remembered, in between writing letters, doing homework, and reading, and tried to ignore how he literally felt like someone detached his arm and didn't bother to return it.

Harry hexed Weasley whenever possible, since the redhead seemed to be the root of all the Slytherin's problems. Harry had managed to turn the Gryffindor's hair into a miniaturised nest of rainbow snakes once– the curse had taken a whole 2 days to wear off since there wasn't exactly a counter curse for it that the teachers could find. Harry had essentially combined three spells together in varying different ways, on non-human test subjects, until he'd found one that worked. Of course, once he'd mastered it, he'd immediately used it, causing mild amounts of hysteria in the History of Magic classroom after the students slowly started waking up after class had ended and Professor Binns' monotone had faded from their ears, only to see a writhing mass of snakes on a certain prat's head.

Sweet sweet revenge. Best served cold with a side of chocolate.

After all, who didn't like chocolate?

Voldemort, probably.

Pansy and Draco had both joined in after witnessing the amusing aftermaths of Harry's pranks, though they hexed Alex as well as Weasley, in retaliation for what Draco called "being a completely brain-dead piece of Flobberworm Mucus" which Pansy roughly translated as "Hurting our friend."

It was unbelievably saccharine sweet. Kind of like those times where a measurement unit is read wrong when executing a recipe and one ends up with 5 cupfuls of sugar instead of 5 capfuls in their bread. Bread that now tastes more or less like pure sugar instead of, you know, bread.

Now he was rambling.

At any rate, Harry was horrifically charmed by the act, though he probably wouldn't ever admit it to anyone except himself.

The Gryffindors hexed them back. Or, at least they attempted to. Still, there were a lot of things that a first year with next to no knowledge of magic couldn't do, and hexing appeared to be one of them. At least, in the Gryffindors' case. Thus, they had to resort to poor pranks using pre-bought joke products from Zonko's, which were all hilariously fun to disengage and reuse, most often on the very Gryffindors that set up the traps in the first place.

Of course, the short-tempered lions had gotten increasingly angry at their botched and foiled attempts at what might loosely constitute as pranks. If they actually worked. Which, they didn't.

_Finally_ realising their lack of manpower (and brainpower) somewhere around the end of the first week, the Gryffindors recruited a few more people from the other two houses. A lanky, dirty-blond Hufflepuff with a near-constant annoyed scowl joined what appeared to be Alex's inner circle of friends, previously only consisting of Weasley. Harry learnt that his name was Zacharias Smith, and that Alex was probably off with the weasel than with him, which was really saying something, seeing as the weasel was... well...

Himself.

At any rate, the worse that Alex's crowd had managed to do in the second week of school was lock the three Slytherins in a classroom after their lesson had ended– and they didn't even use magic for it. At any rate, the Slytherins were only really locked for all of the 10 seconds it took for Pansy to retrieve her wand and cast the Unlocking Charm at the keyhole.

Awfully droll, really.

The Slytherins had retaliated by putting the people responsible into the Hospital Wing. Quite literally. They'd used a Body-Bind Curse on each of them, and then used semi-permanent sticking charms to glue their robes to the floor in a neat line just outside its doors, all while keeping their victims blindfolded so that there was no chance of being identified.

Things picked up in the beginning of the second week of term, with Harry spending a full day with his quill constantly jerking in his hand whenever he wanted to write anything. Of course, it lead to completely illegible notes filled with scribbles spanning the width of his page where it was particularly bad. Though, Draco figured out the hex's counter on the second day, so it really wasn't that terrible.

There was also a notable incident where Alex, Weasley, and Smith were forced to walk around in neon pink robes, courtesy of Pansy, after all their clothing had been turned that same colour. Professor Snape gleefully, as gleeful as he got at any rate, subtracted 20 points from Gryffindor for "Improper attire" the minute he caught sight of them.

Nobody could ever prove that it was _actually_ the three Slytherins who did the deeds since they was always careful to not be seen or heard. It was always the Gryffindors' word against theirs, which amounted to them getting away unscathed by the claws of detention each time.

The regular interactions between the three Slytherins and the two Gryffindors, and one Hufflepuff, provided a constant source of amusement for the rest of the school and, two full weeks after they started the term, Alex, Smith, and the Weasel were given the name "the Almost-Golden Trio" by the friendly Hogwarts rumour mill– the "almost" coming from Smith being a Hufflepuff (yellow black) instead of a Gryffindor (gold red). They were just called the "Golden Trio" for short. Meanwhile, Harry, Pansy, and Draco were christened with the name "Silver Trio", due to them being Slytherins and Slytherins being silver. And green. But the school seemed to be most interested in the silver portion of it.

Pansy huffed. "Why _Silver_ Trio, though? It's so boring and mundane. Why not something completely out of the ordinary, like... Pots, Pans, and Co!" The brunette complained, as soon as she heard the new nicknames for the first time.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What in the name of Merlin possessed you to think that a name like that could possibly relate to us?"

"But it does. Completely. That's the thing." Pansy laughed. "**Pot**ter, **Pans**y, Dra**co**. _Pots_, _Pans_, and _Co_. It's absolutely amazing and beautiful and everyone should bow down before my absolute brilliance." She finished with an exaggerated curtsy.

Everyone who heard the joke groaned the way people generally do when they hear jokes that are so bad that they actually sound halfway good. Like puns, for instance.

A couple weeks after school began, just before they their fourth week of term started, Flying lessons were announced (rather loudly and often) by a piece of talking parchment pinned to the Slytherin notice board. Harry had christened it "Steve" and took to having short conversations with it from time to time.

It was a rather sunny Wednesday afternoon, the day that these lessons were to begin. Classes had just ended and the newly named Silver Trio walked together towards where said lessons were to take place: a smooth, flat lawn that was just a little ways away from the school's main entrance.

"What was Dumbledore even thinking, pairing us with the Gryffindors for Flying lessons?" Draco grumbled.

"Probably wasn't even thinking at all." Harry sighed, and Pansy made a noise of agreement.

Twin rows of broomsticks spaced neatly and tidily lay on the grass. Their teacher, who introduced herself as Madame Hooch, was already there, hawk-like eyes trained on the small handful of students that had arrived early.

"Stand by a broomstick." She ordered sharply, once they approached. "Don't do anything else without my say so."

Draco scanned his eyes over the brooms briefly and wrinkled up his nose. "There aren't any decent brooms." He proclaimed huffily. "They won't let us bring our own brooms, and yet their supplies are horrifically sub-par and _old_."

"Well, since I know a lot less than you do about brooms and other practical flying-related things, could you help me choose a semi-decent overpriced twig for the lesson?" Harry asked, watching Pansy scrutinise the twigs on the end of a tired-looking Cleansweep that looked to be held together by a combination of sheer will and Spellotape.

"Already done that." Draco smirked. "Pans, the fourth one down from this side looks pretty good. Harry, come with me."

Saying that, the blond strode towards the end of one row, where there were two brooms next to each other that looked noticeably less scuffed than the rest.

"Pick one."

Harry shrugged and took the broom closest to where he assumed Madame Hooch would be coaching them. Draco took the other.

The Parselmouth glanced at his watch. There were a few more minutes before class was to begin. "Do you fly often?" Harry asked Draco, trying to make light conversation to fill in the time.

"As often as I can." The blond grinned. "Father says that I have a talent for it. What about you?"

A breeze blew Harry's hair into his eyes as he shook his head. "I tried it once, when I was pretty young. Flew for around 10 minutes before I decided that the height limit on it was about as stupid as a fur coat in summer." He shrugged. "Never got back to flying since."

Draco laughed. "If you're any good after these lessons, I'll bully you into trying out for the Slytherin team next year myself. You look like a Seeker."

Harry gave a noncommittal smile. "Alex used to say the same thing. Only, he was sure I'd be a Ravenclaw, and a chaser."

Draco made a scoffing sound. "If you're a Ravenclaw, then I'm a bleeding Hufflepuff. He clearly doesn't know you as well as you know him, despite your insistence." Then, the blond's eyes glanced towards Hogwarts' main entrance before he focused back on Harry again. "Speaking of him, he's just come out of the Entrance Hall. Want to jinx his chosen broom when he gets here?"

Harry shook his head. "Weasel, maybe, or even Smith, but Alex doesn't really deserve it."

Draco sighed loudly. "You're still clinging to the hope that your twin isn't as much of a prat as he actually is, huh?"

"Alex simply took the bedtime stories that father told us a bit too much to heart." Harry defended. "He's a Gryffindor. They're more passionate and emotional than the rest of us; it was only natural. His only error was making friends with the wrong sort of people. If anything, this whole thing's Weasley's fault, for being a terrible influence."

Draco sighed again, just as Madame Hooch loudly blew her ear-splitting whistle loudly to get their attention.

"Hurry up!" She shouted at the crowd of Gryffindors that were noisily and leisurely making their way over. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Hup hup! We don't have all year."

They hurried to do so, and Harry ended up next to a round-cheeked boy whom he recognised from Potions. Neville, his name was, had somehow managed to reduce his cauldron to a melted puddle of metallic goop the class before– which was kind of amazing, even if he actually hadn't meant to do it.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch from the front, "and say 'up!"'

"UP!" The first years shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his outstretched hand immediately, as did Draco's. Though, after a quick glance around, Harry realised that very few people were actually successful. A few people down, Pansy glared at her broomstick, which had half-risen before falling again, her hand on her hip, while Alex's broom had only managed a small hop before it dropped back onto the ground.

Draco smirked smugly at the weasel, whose broom hadn't so much as twitched. Harry waved at him with the hand that held his own broomstick and got an annoyed growl in return.

After several minutes of that– Weasley's broomstick _still_ hadn't moved, to Harry's delight– Madame Hooch stopped them and showed them how to mount the handles of their broomsticks correctly without slipping off the end. Then, she walked around, correcting their posture and handgrips. Harry and Draco shared a silent giggle when she told Weasley that he'd been doing it wrong for his whole life.

The sunlight warmed Harry's back when he straddled the broom handle, his hands resting gently on worn wood where the varnish had been rubbed away over years of aggressive affection, the exact place that so many others before him had also clasped.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you're to kick off from the ground, hard." Instructed Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle– three– two– Come back here, boy! "

Beside Harry, the chubby-cheeked and horrifically clumsy Gryffindor had kicked off before the shrill yell of the whistle had sounded. Up up up he shot, like a rocket launching off into space, or a bullet fired abruptly from a gun. Higher and higher, until he was almost as high as the enormous trees that loomed up from the Forbidden Forest.

The class watched with the sort of interested horror that motivates people to study serial killers, or to slow down to observe the bloody aftermath of a car accident. Neville's face blanched as he tightened his hold on the old, worn broomstick in his hands. And, as the first years watched, wide-eyed, Neville's eyes opened slowly, looking down and then he gasped. As if in slow motion, his hands slipped, and he fell sideways, then–

Down

Down

Down

Then, Harry blinked, and **THUMP**.

Neville hit the ground with a horrific thud and a whimper, landing in a heap of crushed black robes on the neatly clipped grass lawn. Overhead, his broomstick had slowed, with nobody to guide it along, and lazily drifted away, finding freedom from the clumsy and rambunctious hands of future first years above the treeline of the shadowy Forbidden Forest.

Madame Hooch had hurried over, bending over Neville. Her face was almost as white as his.

"It hurts." The Gryffindor snuffled.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy– it's all right, up you get. Easy does it."

Then, she turned to the rest of the class with a cautionary glare.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You're to leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'quidditch.'"

She left, with a tear-streaked Neville shakily walking beside her, clutching his injured wrist.

As soon as the great wooden doors to the Entrance Hall swung closed behind her, the weasel, a few brooms down from Harry, started laughing. Unlike Pansy's bright, joyous explosion of happiness, or Draco's hastily stifled expression of open mirth, his was cold and harsh– the kind of laugh that didn't incite or ignite any desire for onlookers to join in.

"Did you see his face?!" Ronald scoffed. Then, he made his voice go higher and squeakier, mocking Neville's normal tone. "'Ooooh! It hurts! It hurts so much! The pain! Merlin. How did he even get into Gryffindor in the first place?"

Alex laughed along as well, and Harry inwardly winced when he saw that.

"Oh, look!" The weasel cried gleefully, voice returned to normal. He pitched forward and snatched something up from the grass. It was a glass sphere, delicately made, with soft puffs of cloud-like white smoke hovering inside. "It's that stupid ball that Longbottom always carries around." Saying that, he pocketed it with a smirk. "Too bad for him. Finders keepers."

"It's a Remembrall," Harry corrected lazily, "and you should probably give it back to him."

"Awww. Ickle Harry standing up for the great big lump of fat." The redhead taunted. "Gonna tell on your big bad Head of House?"

"Well," Harry sighed with a roll of his eyes, "if you just listened to what your betters were saying, we wouldn't have to. "

The Weasley's eyes narrowed slightly and he stiffened slightly in anger. "I don't see any of my so-called _betters_ around; I guess I don't need to listen then." He retorted with a sneer.

Harry tutted while shaking his head. "_Poor_ little Weasley. Looks like your mummy and daddy need to get you glasses." With a meaningful look at Draco and Pansy, he fake-sighed again. "We're standing right here, after all."

"Shove off, Harry." Alex said, his posture emanating annoyance and anger on behalf of his so-called friend.

"Finders keepers. Losers weepers." The weasel chanted, tossing the Remembrall into the air and catching it again with both cupped hands. "There's no reason for me to give it back to the big crybaby."

Harry hated bullies. He knew what they were like, what they did– his cousin Dudley was one. The Parselmouth considered it to be one of the worst things that a human could be.

"Tapeworm." Harry muttered, earning a brief confused expression from everyone who heard him.

"Is that supposed to be some sort of horrific insult?" Weasley laughed.

"If 'horrific insult' implies that I think of you as nothing more than a parasitic creature that attaches to a host for the sole purpose of sucking them dry... Then, yes." Harry shot back with a smirk. "Coupled with the fact that tapeworms are some of the fastest reproducing creatures in the world, I think it describes you and your family fairly well."

There was a soft snickering that came simultaneously from the Slytherins and a few Gryffindors who had heard the exchange. Ronald growled.

"C'mon," Harry said, extending a hand, palm up, "give it here."

The redhead scoffed derisively. "What're you going to do about it, _Mister Junior Death Eater_?"

Now, it was Harry who stiffened.

"That was horrifically bigoted," muttered Draco, "not to mention completely uncalled for." He added angrily.

"I could hex you and take it," Harry said, crossing his arms, "but, I want to spare myself the trouble."

Weasley scoffed again. "As if you could."

_As if I hadn't already done that countless numbers of times you disgusting piece of flobberworm mucus._

Abruptly, the Gryffindor snatched his broomstick from the ground and mounted it, kicking off before Harry could reach him to grab the Remembrall away. His broom wobbled dangerously as he flew to quite a distance away, holding the glass ball in one hand and the handle of the broomstick with the other.

Harry's inner Slytherin put his head in his hands at Weasley's sheer stupidity. _Why are you trying for a mid air confrontation if you can't even fly your own broom well?!_

"Since you're such a freaking saint, come get it." The redhead yelled, almost at the beginnings of the Forbidden Forest. He'd risen a lot higher than even what Neville reached– a lot higher than what would be considered "safe" in the eyes of any sane person.

_Bloody Gryffindors._

Harry sighed and extended his hand in front of him, palm down.

"Up."

When his broomstick obediently shot into his hand, he stood it up beside him, twigs resting on the ground. Putting his right arm around it to hold it in place, Harry reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his wand.

"Oi, weasel," The Parselmouth called, putting one hand around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice, "don't complain that I didn't warn you!

"**Rictusempra**!"

The ticking charm shot from the tip of Harry's wand in a silver puff of shimmering smoke and zipped towards the precariously hovering Weasley. As the onlookers watched, it collided with the Gryffindor and the redhead let out a high-pitched shriek of laughter, reminiscent of the scream of nails scraping down a chalkboard, and flailed to avoid the sensation of hundreds of tickling hands. He doubled up, stretched, and contorted himself into a plethora of uncomfortable-looking poses, heaving with laughter.

_Perfect._

Harry smirked and straddled his own broomstick, pushing off as hard as he could against the grassy surface of the field. The wind made whistling sounds as it streamed past his ears and through his hair, and he could feel the heavy material of his coat flapping around behind his body as he flew. Taking a small moment to be thankful for his bad eyesight– his glasses protected his eyes from the stinging that the strong wind would've caused– the Slytherin zoomed up towards Weasley, just as the Gryffindor wobbled again, causing himself to teeter off to one side and lose his balance.

The weasel let go of the Remembrall as he frantically reached for his broomstick in an attempt to right himself. Harry, who was flying straight towards Weasley as fast as his broom could go, yanked his broom up even higher, almost shooting directly upwards, before going into a steep nosedive as he realised that the heavy glass ball was dropping too fast for him to catch that way.

The wind, mixed with the screams of a few people watching, howled past his ears as he plummeted downwards. Harry stretched his hand forward, towards the Remembrall, as they both shot straight downwards. The space between the tips of his fingers and the heavy glass ball grew closer and closer as they fell.

Just a little bit more...

Almost...

Right... there...

His one hand closed around the cool surface of the glass sphere just as he used his other to forcefully yank his broom up from his dive and stop midair, bare inches from crashing into the earth. There was a light scattering of claps from the Slytherins and Gryffindors watching as Harry gently lowered his broom slowly, until his feet rested firmly on the grass of the field again, feeling a tad bit wobbly at the knees.

There was another loud thud as Weasley lost the battle with gravity and fell back to the earth in a lanky heap of black robes and elbows.

"Well that's going to hurt." Pansy commented idly with a smirk, breaking the still silence that had descended on the first years.

Then, there was a great hurrying from a large number of Gryffindors as they finished processing what had happened and started stampeding towards the Weasel to inquire about his wellbeing.

"I'm bullying you into trying out for the quidditch team." Draco chuckled, watching the chaos unfold. The Silver Trio had retreated back to a short, safe distance away. "Was that seriously only the second time you've flown?"

Harry nodded, a little breathless from the adrenalin that coursed through his body.

"Brilliant." The blond breathed.

"House Cup, here we come." Pansy added with a grin.

The massive doors to the entrance hall swung open and a dark figure that Harry couldn't quite clearly see strode outside, walking quickly and purposefully towards the group of first years out on the grass.

Tracey hurried up to them. "It was an amazing dive you pulled yourself out of!" She enthused, her pigtails bouncing as she spoke. "I honestly thought that you were going to crash!" Beside her, Daphne nodded as well, a grin on her face.

Harry smiled sheepishly with a shrug.

"Harold Potter." Intoned a voice behind Harry. Said Slytherin froze briefly before pivoting around.

_Bloody Merlin no._

"Uh." Harry blinked, trying to look innocent. "Yes, Professor Snape?"

"10 points from Gryffindor for unnecessary endangerment of others. Somebody escort him to the Hospital Wing." The Potions professor commanded, raising his voice to be heard above the din. Instantly, the first years were silent. Then, he turned to Harry. "Potter, come with me." The Slytherin Head of House monotoned with a face perfectly devoid of expression before turning and striding back to the main entrance of Hogwarts without checking to see whether Harry was following or not.

The Parselmouth hastily grabbed his messenger bag before running after the Potions professor. They walked through long corridors and the twisting turns of the dungeons– all in perfect silence, save for their footsteps echoing along the rough stone floors. Although Harry tried not to be, he felt a twisting nervousness grip at him more and more with each silent moment that passed, especially since he had to walk quite a bit faster than he was used to to keep up with his professor's long strides.

They reached the end of a long corridor and stopped in front of a dark wooden door that had a floating figure settled on top. Peeves, if Harry remembered properly, was setting up a chalkboard eraser that was practically pure white with accumulated chalk particles, balancing it precariously on the top of the door so that the slightest movement, like the opening of the door, would jar it enough for it to fall perfectly on whichever unsuspecting victim was trying to enter the room.

"Go, Peeves. _Now_." Professor Snape said with a glare.

The poltergeist's eyes darted up for a second before he returned to his balancing. "Shan't." Peeves said resolutely with a childish jut of his lip.

"The Baron will not be pleased." The professor continued with a disdainful look. "Now, I'm going to say this again. **Go**."

With a loud and wet raspberry and an explosion of colourful and creative curse words, Peeves zoomed away down the corridor with the eraser in hand, knocking several suits of armour to the ground in the process.

Professor Snape sighed and withdrew his wand, silently casting a long series of nonverbal spells at a dark wooden door before opening it.

"Come in."

Harry hesitantly followed the Potions professor into a surprisingly spacious room, filled with numerous bubbling cauldrons. Snape waved his wand again and two emerald green chairs levitated themselves from a stack in the corner to swoop into the centre of the room.

"Sit."

Harry gingerly perched on the foremost part of the seat cushion on the chair that was closest to himself and Professor Snape took the other with a ostentatious swish of robes. After another minute of silence, the teacher sighed in a disappointed tone.

"I don't think I need to go into the extent which you could have injured yourself with that exceedingly _stupid_ stunt of yours, Harold?"

Harry huffed internally at the deliberate use of his full name but didn't comment upon it.

"I know, Professor, and I had taken it into account before I provoked Weasley."

"In addition, I'm sure you understand how it would reflect on the house if anything you _hadn't_ taken into account had happened?"

Harry nodded again. "But, nothing _did_ happen; therefore, you have nothing to punish me for." He added with a smug grin, just bordering the line between cheeky and downright rude.

Professor Snape sardonically raised an eyebrow whilst still maintaining an otherwise perfectly emotionless expression. His nail tapped absentmindedly at the wooden armrest of his chair. "Actually, Potter. You will report to the quidditch field this evening at seven o' clock sharp wearing clothing that you deem suitable for strenuous activity."

Harry frowned. "What for, sir?"

"I trust that you will not be late. Don't bring anybody along." Professor Snape said, neatly avoiding Harry's question. "This is my office, and we are a corridor away from the Potions classroom, if you need a reference point to help you find your way out of the dungeons. You may see yourself out."

Slightly peeved at not being answered, Harry gathered up his bag that was resting on his lap and walked towards the exit huffily.

"Ten points to Slytherin for excellent use of the tickling charm as well as for... _decent_ flying." Professor Snape suddenly said again, just as Harry had extended a hand to open the door.

The green-eyed boy felt a smile stretch across his face as stepped into the stone slabs of the corridor outside.

"Thank you, sir."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"What do you think you'll have to do?" Pansy asked, after Harry had finished filling his friends in on what had happened at dinnertime.

"Dunno." Harry shrugged. He took a small sip of his pumpkin juice and refilled his glass before continuing. "Maybe I have to weed the quidditch field?"

They all shrugged. None of them knew anyone who'd gotten into trouble this early on in the term, so they didn't know what a punishment would entitle.

Harry's eyes roamed around the Great Hall and he stood up abruptly. "I'll be back. Five minutes, max." Saying that, he walked towards the Gryffindor table, towards the round-cheeked boy that he'd just caught sight of out of the corner of his eye.

The Gryffindors around Harry quieted as he approached their table, evidently interested in whatever would happen.

"Longbottom, wasn't it?" The Slytherin said, with a tilt of his head.

The first year nodded quickly; he still looked a bit pale from earlier.

Harry reached into his pocket and proffered the Remembrall from earlier that day.

"Here."

Neville took it with a disbelieving look. Immediately as his fingers touched it, the white puffs of smoke inside the Remembrall turned scarlet and started to glow. Then, as if just remembering his manners, he turned and smiled at the Slytherin. "Thank you."

Harry laughed. "Good luck finding whatever it was that you've forgotten." Saying that, he pivoted on his heel and back to the Slytherin table, aware on eyes on his back the whole time.

"You're not serving a detention, right?" Pansy asked when Harry sat down again. He paused before replying.

"You're right. Professor Snape didn't say anything about it being one, so I'm guessing that it isn't." The Parselmouth frowned. "I wish he was more specific."

"Cheer up." Draco said with a shrug. "It's no good worrying about something out of your control. 'Sides, Severus' my godfather. I could probably try get him to change his mind if he tries to give you more."

Harry's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Draco shrugged again. "What difference would it make, whether I told you it or not?"

"You could have asked him for extra tutoring or something of that sort on behalf of me!" Harry exclaimed. Then, he stopped with a pensive look. "You _can_ do that right?"

"He used to tutor me, so he should agree, yes." Draco answered with a smile, cutting himself a piece of steak.

"Brilliant. Squeeze me in there too, if you can. Though, I might have to drop out when you get onto more advanced potions." Pansy laughed.

Draco laughed along as well. "At any rate, it's half past six now, so we should probably get going for Harry's appointment."

"Oh!" The dark-haired Slytherin exclaimed. "Professor Snape specified that I have to go alone. You two go ahead and finish eating– I'll be back... Whenever I'm back, I guess."

Pansy looked a bit disappointed and Draco nodded understandingly.

"Alright," the blond said, "but don't wake me up if you're back late."

"And be sure to tell us about whatever happens!" Pansy chimed in.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry thanked Merlin that Eris had forced him into his thick winter jacket as soon as he felt the icy cold night air hit his cheeks. He stepped out of the heated Entrance Hall and into the evening's dimmed light, carefully closing the doors behind him. According to the Marauder's Map, the quidditch fields were quite close to the school. Harry just hoped that he could actually find it– he'd decided to leave the Map in his trunk after he'd gotten changed so he wouldn't lose it.

The eldest Potter child had never actually understood the merits of quidditch. Sure, Alex had always loved the sport, and James had constantly claimed that "centuries worth of quidditch-loving ancestors' blood ran through their veins" or something of that sort, but Harry had never understood why anybody would willingly subject themselves to near-death situations for the sole reason of catching a _ball_. It just seemed too Gryffindor-ish for his liking.

Though, Harry still had countless happy memories associated with quidditch. Whenever he had the time to spare, James tried to teach Alex tricks and tips, while Harry was allowed to sit in the cool shade of a tree near them and read for hours and hours about whatever topics interested him at that time. Then, when the father son duo had finished, they'd all trek back to the house with Alex chattering excitedly all the while, and Lily would be persuaded to leave her writing desk so the whole family could sit down at their dining room table to a delicious meal together.

_Good times._

The green-eyed Slytherin had reached the quidditch field while he was reminiscing, and looked up to see that there was another figure standing there, illuminated by the numerous lights that were set up in the bleachers.

Harry had assumed that it someone else who had gotten into trouble and hurried forward to tap the person on the shoulder, having to stand on tiptoes to do so due to their enormous height. When they turned around, the Parselmouth recognised him to be a popular fifth year Slytherin, whose family was quite prominent in the pureblood society.

"Hello." Harry said hesitantly– the other boy was quite a bit larger then he was, both in length and in width. "Um. How're you finding the evening?"

Thankfully, the fifth year brightened at the familiar form of greeting . "Hello." He replied. "I'm finding it well, though a bit chilly. What about you?"

"The same. Were you also told to come here by Professor Snape at seven?" Harry queried again tentatively.

"Yup. 'M Marcus, Marcus Flint. You're that Potter kid, aren't you?"

"Harry, yes." The first year said, checking his watch. It was seven exactly. "Do you know where Professor Snape i–"

"Potter, Flint."

Harry almost squeaked, not anticipating the Potions professor's sudden arrival. _How is it that he can sneak up on everyone like that?!_

"Professor." Marcus said with a nod of his head.

_You saw him coming and you didn't warn me!_

Harry sighed, turning around to face the Potions professor. "Sir."

Professor Snape smirked, evidently amused by how he'd managed to scare the green-eyed first year. "I see that you've met. Nevertheless, I shall introduce you both, whether you've already done so or not. Harold Potter, Marcus Flint– Slytherin quidditch captain. Marcus Flint, Harold Potter– Slytherin seeker. Train him well, Flint. We don't plan on losing the House Cup this year."

With that, the professor turned to go back to the school.

"Wait! Sir!" Harry exclaimed, half taking a step forward in an attempt to chase after the hook-nosed teacher before he realised what he was doing. "I don't play quidditch! I don't even _like_ quidditch!"

Professor Snape turned back to face Harry. "Well, I suppose you do now, don't you? I'll see to it that you'll receive a fitting broomstick." He said with a smirk. "Unless, you would rather have detentions for the rest of your schooling life for almost killing your classmate?"

Harry huffed. Now that he thought about it, it would be impossible to prove that he had the whole situation under control– his age hindering his story the most. As much as he hated admitting it, Snape was right.

Sensing that he'd won, the professor smirked and turned to Marcus. "Work with Potter today, but be back in your dorms before curfew." Then, he strode back to the school in an ostentatious sword of robes.

_Prick_.

"So, Harold... or Harry," Marcus started, "how good are you that _Professor Snape_ didn't even take a 'no'?"

"Harry. I did a dive after a falling Remembrall."

"What sort of dive?"

"From around the top of the trees in the Forbidden Forest to... Less than a foot above the ground, I'm fairly certain." Harry answered.

Marcus let out a low whistle. "That's... What? 60 feet?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea. I'm bad at estimation."

The fifth year grinned. "Anyway, that's absolutely brilliant. You're just the right build for a seeker too– we'll just need to get you a good broom and we should flatten Gryffindor just like last year. Come on, follow me." Saying that Marcus, turned and started walking towards a small wooden building off to the side that Harry hadn't noticed before.

Sensing that it would be better to just observe rather than ask any more questions, Harry hurried after him.

"This is the broomshed." The older Slytherin explained as he opened the door and entered, Harry following. The air inside smelt of varnish mingled, though it was mingled with a fresh wooden scent that Harry didn't quite recognise. "We keep our broomsticks and quidditch things in here. It's always unlocked– the school brooms have special enchantments on them to stop them from going missing. You'll have to do the same for your own broom if you don't want it disappearing on you. We also have quidditch things in here, though the uniforms themselves are the player's responsibility."

Retrieving a wooden crate from a nearby shelf, Marcus handed it to Harry. "Make yourself useful and carry this." Saying that, he took his wand out and touched it to two newer-looking school broomsticks, seeming to unstick them from where they'd been placed.

They carried those things out onto the quidditch field and Marcus instructed Harry to drop them onto the grass.

"Alright," The fifth year said, "it's getting a bit late, and I have a Charms essay to start writing, so I'm just going to be seeing where you're at, skill-wise. You're going to join the regular practices after today, alright? Three times a week."

_Looks like I don't really get too much of a choice. Though, I would have joined next year at any rate, with Draco. So, it isn't too bad. _

Harry sighed and resigned himself to his fate. "Alright, Flint, though I reserve the right to freely miss practices as long as I catch the snitch at the end of matches."

Marcus smirked. "Of course. Do you know the positions and rules?"

The first year raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? I read the handbook when I was _five_."

"Humour me." Marcus said with a laugh. "I need to confirm what you know and what you don't so we don't miss anything."

"Alright, that's fair. Four positions: one seeker, three chasers, one keeper, two beaters. Seeker catches the snitch, earns 150 points for whatever team they're on. The chasers pass the quaffle between them towards the three goals, which the keeper guards." A chilly breeze blew through the pitch and Harry shivered. "If they score, it's 10 points each– the keeper's supposed to stop them from doing so. The beaters hit the two bludgers towards the opposing team, with the sole purpose of quite literally knocking them off their game. There are over 700 ways to commit a quidditch foul, all of which were committed during the 1473 Quidditch World Cup. Correct?"

The Slytherin quidditch captain looked impressed as he nodded. Harry, although shivering from the chill of the night air, grinned smugly.

"Decent." The stocky fifth year admitted, not looking bothered by the cold in the slightest. "Now, mount your broom– I'll let loose a couple of snitches to see how many you can catch, alright?" Saying that, he tossed a broom in Harry's direction.

Harry almost didn't managed to catch it, both because he wasn't expecting the throw and also because it was thrown quite hard. The first year's first instinct when faced with an object hurtling rapidly towards himself had been to throw up his arms to protect his face, which lead to quite a lot of his air being knocked out of his small frame as the handle collided harshly with his unprotected stomach. He staggered back a step, narrowly avoiding the embarrassment of falling over, and the broom fell onto the ground bereft of a hand to catch it. Harry glared at Marcus as he lightly rubbed at his stomach where the broom had hit and then winced when he came to a particularly painful spot near his ribs that throbbed at his touch. A stripe of pulsing pain stretched across his belly. There'd probably be a painful-looking purple-blue bruise the next day.

Flint at least had the presence of mind to look apologetic. "Are you ok?"

Harry gingerly straightened up and, when he wasn't immediately assaulted with a barrage of pain, he arched his back in a careful, cat-like stretch and concluded that, yes, he could live without going to the Hospital Wing, though it was probably better to stop by there to get a salve for the bruising.

"You don't know your own strength. Of course I'm not alright, I've just had a broom smack me across my stomach." Harry grumbled as he stretched his arm up over his fallen broomstick. "Up."

When the worn handle of the broomstick jumped into his hand like before, he straddled the handle whilst adjusting his handgrip, wincing slightly as the bruised stripe across his stomach throbbed in protest. Seeing the Slytherin captain's concerned expression, Harry huffed. "I'll live. Now, I'd like to get to my dorm before midnight, so could we hurry this up?"

Marcus shrugged, still looking concerned. "Alright, whatever you say."

They practiced, beginning with three snitches and gradually adding to that number when Harry caught them until the first year had to search for a dozen snitches at once. As soon as he'd started chasing after one dim glint of gold, Harry's eyes would land on another, which lead to a lot of sharp turns and steep dives as he twisted his broom in a multitude of directions trying to catch the multitude of fluttering shapes. The moon gradually rose higher and higher as the first year rolled and curved, dancing an intricate dance across the skies, and its silvery light shone a delicate beam onto the slightly damp surface of the grass and the two figures standing on it.

Then, at last, after both of them had yawned more than their two hands could count, Harry caught the last snitch that had been let loose and they unanimously decided to call it a day and go back to their dorms. Though his fingers were white from clutching the broom handle and icy from the winds and cold, Harry's cheeks were warm. Warm enough that they felt like they were radiating heat into the chill of the night winds. To Harry, It felt that if he were to look into the mirror, his face would be the same colour as the red on the Gryffindor banners that hung in the Great Hall, flushed with happiness, and that his eyes would be bright with the boundless energy that seemed to lie within every child.

The two Slytherins grinned together, their prior emotional inhibitions lost with the discovery of a shared interest. Harry clutched his borrowed broomstick to his side, breathing deeply from exertion. His muscles ached, and the first year was sure that the next day would bring more pain with every move he made but, right that moment, it was a pleasant and satisfying ache that brought warmth to each tired step he took.

"Pass the broom." Marcus said with a smile, gathering up the quidditch paraphernalia that lay scattered around the field.. "I'll put these away. Get going back to your dorm, and don't let Filch catch you."

The green-eyed boy threw the broomstick to Marcus before the older Slytherin could change his mind. "Thanks! And, goodnight!" Harry called as he started a slow walk back to the main entrance, muscles weakly protesting all the while.

Six wrong turns later (_Merlin, how on earth did he keep forgetting the way?!_), Harry staggered into the Slytherin common room. The adrenalin from flying was wearing off a whole lot faster than he'd have hoped, and the weak protests from his muscles had turned into full-on screaming somewhere between the third and forth time he'd gotten lost. Ignoring the bemused glance from the solitary boy still awake and scribbling at his piece of parchment, Harry limped to his dorm, not sure which leg to favour since they seemed equally sore.

_"Greetingssssssss."_ Eris hissed as soon the Parselmouth opened the door.

_"Hello, Princesssss."_ Harry smiled with a small wave of his hand, wincing slightly when even that tiny action caused the muscles in his upper arm to strain painfully.

Draco was lying propped up against a mountain of green and silver cushions on his bed, engrossed with the book he was reading. At second glance, Harry chuckled when he realised that his own bed looked suspiciously bare of pillows, the fluffy mounds having been absorbed into Draco's giant mountainous monstrosity.

"You'll have to give them back, Blondie." Harry greeted with a tired smile.

Draco looked up lazily. "Your pillows are mine now, Little Snake. You forfeited your rights to them when you made me stay up to wait for you."

_Draco waited for me._

A warm feeling settled somewhere in the middle of Harry's ribcage at the realisation.

"I'm going to go shower now, though I expect them to be back on my bed when I get back." Harry threatened half-heatedly, limping over to his trunk to snag a towel and a change of clothes before awkwardly hobbling to the bathrooms.

There were a few more pillows than Harry remembered there being on his bed when he made his way back to the dorm surrounded by a halo of residual heat from his hot shower. Though, the majority of them still remained behind Draco's back. Harry shrugged inwardly. He could sleep with just one large pillow– Alex used to have a habit of stealing his anyway, so he'd learnt to cope with only one. 'Sides, he could summon a house elf and request one, though Harry thought that he'd feel guilty in the morning about disturbing the poor creature that late at night if he did.

The first year shuffled towards his bed and toed off his slippers. With a low groan, Harry flopped belly-first into his duvet and made a louder, more pained sound when that action strained yet more of his tired muscles.

_Tomorrow's going to be an absolute joy, I can already tell._

Harry thought heard Draco laugh lowly, though that could also have been the sound of him turning another page in his book, or the soft sounds of Eris moving about in her vivarium. Really, all the sounds seemed to be mixing together now. How odd. When had he closed his eyes?

The beds at Hogwarts were so incredibly comfortable. The sheets were as soft as fur on Flopsy's underbelly and cool like a chilled drink in the middle of a summer heat wave.

Mm. _Comfortable_.

There was another sound. A soft _chh_ as Draco turned another page of his book carefully, delicately. Harry wanted to yawn but, at the same time, it felt like that action would require too much effort on his part. _Far too much effort_.

Yes, just lying there doing absolutely nothing would be best. Harry felt like he could lie there forever, just listening to the small sounds of the going-ons in the room. It was a bit uncomfortable, lying on his stomach. The position made his cheek press uncomfortably against the duvet on the bed. Harry usually preferred to sleep on his side, though moving– even moving his head into a more comfortable position– felt like too much effort at that point, so he did absolutely nothing.

The last thing Harry remembered before the realm of sleep claimed him for its own was a soft, low sound from Draco's part of the room, though he was too tired to concentrate on the meaning or origin of the sounds, not even bothering to distinguish if they were words or not, just lying there and letting delicate tones itself wash over his ears as he fell deep into the world of dreams.

Draco glanced away from where his dorm mate had fallen asleep without even making any movement to cover himself with the duvet.

Harry was evidently tired. Any fool could tell that. So, interrogations as to what had occurred would have to wait until breakfast. It was only logical.

Though, as it stood, Harry was likely to catch a cold before then. The recent bout of cold weather had permeated the normally warm Slytherin dorms and the air now had a distinct chill that it hadn't had two nights ago.

Draco huffed. It would be useless to try extract the duvet from unded Harry. Though the other first year was positively tiny, He was still heavier than what Draco had the strength to lift at that time of night.

After a few seconds of debating with himself, the blond sighed and slid out from under his duvet, padding softly on bare feet towards his trunk at the end of his own bed. Inside, he hauled out one of the enormous blankets that his parents had packed, for "just in case" and staggered over towards Harry's bed with the massive bundle of cloth in his arms almost completely blocking his vision.

When he got there, he dumped it unceremoniously over the sleeping figure. Apart from a slight mumble, Harry didn't make any other sound, and didn't even move. Draco messily spread the blanket over the dark-haired figure, forcefully tucking in areas that looked like they needed it.

Just as he finished, Harry shifted and made a small mewing sound as he buried his face in the new, warm blanket, the very picture of contentment.

Draco smiled. It was a soft smile, one that barely stretched the corners of his lips. Even to a seasoned politician skilled at interpreting body language, it would have been easy to miss due to the fact that it was so slight. Though, it was there.

"Goodnight, Harry."

* * *

**A/N:** **I'm still alive!** Schoolwork's just been extremely hectic, but everything should calm down after a couple more weeks of term (I really really hope). I go to a private school (though I'm not by any means wealthy), and the work they give us is absolutely lethal. I'm uploading an extra-long chapter as an apology, this is actually more than 1000 words longer than the Diagon Alley chapter, my longest prior to this. (This chapter's about 9000 words, if anyone's curious.)

Good news: there's a reason for Alex's personality changing this quickly, though I'm going to point out that he wasn't as close to Harry as Harry was to him. (Didn't stick with Harry during the Ministry Parties, didn't get him a birthday present, left Harry at the emporium when Alex had finished choosing his owl, left Harry alone as soon as another potential friend– weasel– arrived, etc.) This story's written from Harry's perspective, and he's honestly a little blind when it comes to how his little brother's been treating him all these years. *Sigh* Poor little Precious. (I actually planned this.) (I promise)

Thank you all so much for all the support, even though I hadn't uploaded in so long. This fic is currently at 160 follows and 84 favourites– and the numbers constantly rise. You're all my inspiration and my reason for writing, every single one of you. _Thank you. _

As always, I've included a few questions for your consideration. And, I say again that they're not mandatory, though they help me tailor the story to better suit the readers.

1) Any suggestions for more antagonists or female antagonists? Jo used Pansy in the books but... Well... That isn't exactly possible in this situation.

2) Hate nicknames! For Harry, Draco, Pansy, Zach, Ron, and Alex. (Like how Draco called Harry "scarhead" in the books, but Alex has the scar in this fic)

3) Anything you particularly want to see happen? Or, anything you want to see more of?


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